


A Practiced Craft

by Stormfet



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, Clexa, F/F, Femslash, Slow Burn, Teacher/Teacher, bringing back the sunday update, let's have another longform for the 100, the go to otp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-09-06 19:12:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8765551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormfet/pseuds/Stormfet
Summary: Set in a modern day alternate universe at Arkadia University, Dr. Lexa Woods, accomplished practiced lawyer, young up and coming head of the political science department seems to have her life together...until the new young art professor Clarke Griffin flips her world upside down.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this has been my pet project for the past few weeks. I'm resuming sunday updates (yes I am aware this is monday evening EST but for some reason this didn't upload yesterday) for the next few chapters. I'm not expecting this to be the length of pro trikru, but you never know. This is my first stab at slow burn, so wish me luck :) I'm still gonna be working on a few other things to come, so stay tuned and stuff. Enjoy the angst. And yes, there is a scene where Lexa sits angstily in her apartment watching candles burn and complains about pretty girls. So enjoy that when it comes.

Lexa glanced at the clock. Her last slide and five minutes to go. She gazed out across the half-lit lecture hall. Her class was no BIO 100, but fifty political science majors were gazing at the slide. Some even asleep, but some were dutifully taking notes.

 

“I know this is dull stuff, guys, but government structure is essential to politics,” Lexa said. “Understanding how your system of government works is important if you want to make change happen.”

 

Lexa sighed. Big lecture style wasn’t at all her favorite. She tried to keep things interesting in class, but Introduction to Political Science was just that -- an introductory course. Still, she did her best to keep students interested. 

 

She finished up lecture for the day and turned the lights on. Some of the students blinked in the light. 

 

“Remember to read ahead for the next chapter,” Lexa said. “We’ll be covering fundamentals of the state. I suggest, if you don’t read the whole chapter, to at least read the application of historical political writings. And all of this is in your syllabus, in case you forget by Thursday.”

 

The students filled out of the room, some headed to breakfast, others to classes, and some back to their rooms or the library to work on homework or take a quick nap. Teaching an 8AM was fun for nobody.

 

“Dr. Woods?” Lexa turned. One of the students had a question.

 

“Yes, Gustus?” Lexa asked, unplugging her laptop from the projector and zipping it into its case. “And please, just call me Lexa.”

 

“Ah, sorry,” Gustus said. Lexa took a look at him. He was one of the more brilliant kids of the class, but his wardrobe could use an improvement. He was still in the college freshman hoodie-and-jeans look. “Anyway, I was just wondering if you had any recommendations for historical reading, cuz we’re talking about the origins of the state and stuff. I was thinking like, Locke and stuff like that, I know there was a lot of political theory made during the Enlightenment.”

 

“What’s your program again, Gustus? You’re a polysci major and...”

 

“A history double major, actually,” he said. “I always loved learning about history and stuff. Old wars.”

 

“Well, the syllabus entry for this week I believe has a few optional readings for this week. Kant’s essay on the enlightenment and man’s role is one of them, along with excerpts from Locke. But if you’re already familiar with Enlightenment writers (definitely check out Locke and Rousseau’s ideas), I would suggest going straight back to the Greeks. Greek philosophy had some interesting ideas about the state,” Lexa said, grabbing a post-it. “Some of the Presocratics had some cool theories, and of course anyone interested in government should always read Plato’s Republic.” She wrote down a good translation for him and handed him the post-it.

 

“Thanks, Lexa!” Gustus said. 

 

“I’m sure you’re busy, a freshman and all, but definitely poke into some of this stuff if you’re interested,” Lexa said, smiling. “Anything else I can help you with?”

 

“Not at all,” Gustus said, tucking the post-it into his pocket and shouldering his bag.

 

“I’ll see you on Thursday, then!” Lexa waved goodbye and packed up her bag, shouldering it and heading outside. It was just beginning to get cool in Maryland, the weather still warm enough for short sleeves. Lexa carried her jacket, enjoying the breeze on her bare arms. The lecture hall always became uncomfortably warm, and the cool morning air woke her up better than the cup of coffee she had early that morning. 

 

The liberal arts quad was remarkably empty. Then again, it was fairly early on a Tuesday. Most students were either still in class, still asleep or eating breakfast, Lexa guessed. A few scattered across, some working on projects while the sun still shone, others hurrying to class. 

 

“Hey, Lexa!” Lexa turned, saw the Dean of Liberal Arts waving a hand from across the quad.

 

“Anya,” Lexa said as she hurried to catch up to Lexa.

 

“Where are you heading?” Anya asked, placing her hand on Lexa’s shoulder in greeting. “I’ll walk you there.”

 

“Oh, just back to my office,” Lexa said. “I’ve got a few materials to prep for ethics.”

 

“Ah, your baby,” Anya said with a smile. A few years ago Lexa had applied to teach a new class to replace the old ethics credit for the polysci major. The professor, Tristan, had retired a few years ago and the credit was unfulfilled, so most students had taken it outside the major, usually the pre-law one. Lexa proposed a new class combining law and ethics of politics and communication. The class was small, and the casebook had been put together by Lexa herself. She had been a practicing lawyer before coming back to academia, and Anya was able to convince the board to accept the new course. Lexa loved every moment of it. Of course, she loved every moment of teaching, even introductory courses, but this new class, on its third semester, was something else.

 

“It’s been over a year and I still can’t thank you enough for it!” Lexa said, grinning.

 

“Dr. Goeo!” The two women turned. The new art professor, was it? Lexa smiled in greeting. The name of that professor on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't remember it. Something with a C. Lexa's eyes lingered over the new woman. Her blonde hair was pulled loosely back, her round face smiling. Blue eyes crinkling in the sunlight.

 

“Ah, Clarke,” Anya said. “It’s good to see you again! And you know you can call me Anya.”

 

“Right, right,” Clarke said. “And you’re...Dr. Woods, was it?”

 

“Lexa,” Lexa introduced herself, shaking Clarke’s hand. “Clarke Griffin, in the art department, yes?”

 

“Of course,” Clarke said. Nobody could miss the portfolio Clarke was carrying. Big, black, with a nice strap over her shoulder. And her bag was probably crammed full of supplies...

 

“Where are you headed, Clarke?” Anya asked.

 

“Off to do an outdoor studio today,” Clarke said. “We want to take advantage of the sun before winter, so we’ll be doing some nature-inspired sketches over in the woods.”

 

“Good to hear,” Anya said. “Good luck with everything!”

 

Clarke waved goodbye to Lexa and Anya and headed across the quad to the arts building. Anya turned back to Lexa.

 

“What an artist that one is,” she said. “I saw her work for a different museum. Her charcoal work is something else.”

 

“Ah, I wish I could have seen it,” Lexa said, opening the door and letting Anya in. “I never really had artistic talent, myself.”

 

“You can, Lexa! Clarke’s having a gallery opening this Saturday, I’ll email you the museum, I forget. Her talent and work ethic far exceed mine,” Anya said. “All of our art students are brilliant. I hope they know we appreciate them.”

 

“Me, too,” Lexa said, mentally filing away the date. 

 

“Anyway, give me a call,” Anya said. “Perhaps we can have some lunch together today, or sometime this week? I have several meetings all throughout the day, but let me know?”

 

“Will do,” Lexa said, “Although it might have to be less lunch, more  
bar-after-classes-are-out. Midterms are coming up, I’ve got tests to write, discussions to plan, debates partners to pair, emails to answer...and that’s just the beginning of it all.”

 

“I’d like that,” Anya said, waving goodbye. Lexa smiled. Anya had been at the university when Lexa was still untenured, and she would always be grateful to the dean. Anya had helped her through a lot of shit, and Lexa considered her a good friend. And a good mentor. 

 

“Hello, Nino,” Lexa said to the secretary of the office. Lexa shared the space with two other professors -- as the head of polysci, she had to be in her office as much as possible, but the assistant head, Indra took most of the questions, leaving her free to be able to teach. And then of course, Lincoln, the ever calm and present director of the university’s grant and intern program for the polysci majors. His door was always open for anyone to talk.

 

“Lexa!” Nino waved high. 

 

“Anything scheduled between now and ethics?” Lexa asked, setting down her bag at her desk and pulling up her chair.

 

“Nothing new,” Nino said. “Students mostly are talking to Indra and Lincoln today, but we've got an all hands meeting at 3.

 

“Good, plenty of time until then,” Lexa said, pulling up her insane calendar. Three classes, but one was a once-a-week discussion and seminar that met every Thursday afternoon. Otherwise it was just Tuesdays and Thursdays. Most of the polysci classes were taught those days. The department preferred longer classes for in-class discussion. All the double-majors and minors in journalism and communication had to deal with packed Tuesdays and Thursdays, as all their classes were held on those two days. The rest of the university was more spread out, but not the polysci department. Lexa sighed. It was a problem that needed fixing, but when everyone was wanting enough time for talking...

 

She pulled up her email, ready for the onslaught. Since checking it at six that morning and now she probably had at least another twenty, if not thirty.

 

Only twenty one, not too bad. Nothing pressing, so Lexa was able to finish working out her debate pairs for ethics. The topics list had been given last thursday so today they’d be discussing topics and pairs and outlining how the debates were working. Rather than give an exam, Lexa had her ethics kids doing an in class debate and writing a paper. Lexa had never been fond of sit down exams. Talking through things was so much better. But it didn’t work in every class.

 

Before she knew it it was five minutes till, but luckily the class was just downstairs. They taught PLS100 in the (larger) lecture hall in the english building. It was no Neville 101, the lecture hall where the university had special guest speakers, but it was enough for that class. Ethics was just taught in one of the classrooms downstairs.

 

Lexa grabbed her materials and headed down, greeting a few of the students scuttling off to other classes.

 

“Good morning, class,” Lexa said. Ethics was capped at fourteen students, but there were usually two sections, one in fall and one in spring. The polysci major hadn’t gotten large enough to have to open two sections at once, and the students always had the option of taking ethics and law over in the pre-law major, which some of them did. 

 

“Good morning, Lexa,” a few of the students waved. They were all on first name basis with her Lexa looked over them -- Ontari, Aden, Luna. Third and fourth years, a smattering of older and younger, but they were the ones who had survived the culling of freshman and sophomore years. They were all there today. 

 

“Debate topics all selected, Lexa?” Aden asked. 

 

“Interesting stuff happening,” Lexa said, sitting down at one of the desks, arranged in a circle. She preferred to sit with the students rather than stand at the front of the room (at least when she didn’t have to). “We’ve got old, we’ve got new, we’ve got current events and we’ve got theory. Hopefully every pair will find something interesting. 

 

“Now, as a preface to debate. We’ve already talked about the basics of LD debating, and I’ve given you all some reading to do as to some historical LD debates, some of the original stuff of Lincoln and Douglass themselves. But here’s my two cents. If you guys want to learn stuff from this shit, debate the side you don’t agree with. And I know we are all pretty privileged -- we go to a rather prestigious university, in middle-class Maryland, with DC a few minutes away. Most of us have similar opinions on situations, as we’ve been gathering from discussion. But if you can work in learning about something you disagree with, choosing the side you’d rather not, reading sources and essays you normally wouldn’t consider, it’s all going to help you. Politics is all about agreeing on things we’d rather not with people we wish we didn’t have to work with. So let’s get started.”

 

The class was particularly invigorated. Each of the pairs got something they were interested in, sides were assigned, searching for sources and awareness of bias were discussed, and by the end of the class at noon, Lexa was in an excellent mood as she said goodbye and headed for her lunch break.

 

The weather had warmed significantly and she took her lunch to eat outside. She had to review a few cases for ethics, and she wanted to refresh her memory on that week’s reading for seminar, several essays from the revolutionary period from Hamilton and Madison and a few others from Paine. Some good stuff, especially for the kids who were busy listening to the Hamilton soundtrack. Lexa had found it especially enjoying, but she rather would listen to the quad ambience that day. 

 

She spread out her papers in front of her, held down by rocks she had stowed away in her bag for this very purpose, sunglasses over her eyes to read the bright paper. She sipped at a cup of soup as she read over the essays.

 

“Enjoying some time outside?” Lexa looked up, pushing her glasses up on her forehead, her fingers pushing her braids out of her eyes to join the ponytail at the back of her head. 

 

“Hello,” Lexa said. It was the professor from before, Clarke Griffin. The breeze picked up her blonde hair, now loose and free in the wind from its previous ponytail. She cut quite a striking figure in jeans and a white v-neck shirt. A vest hung loosely in her arm. Clarke had lost the portfolio from that morning.

 

“No portfolio?” Lexa asked with a smile, moving a few papers over in case Clarke wanted to sit.

 

“Sitting in the studio,” Clarke said. “Some student work to critique, some of my own for demonstration, some works-in-progress, things like that.”

 

“Sounds wonderful!” Lexa said. “I have so much respect for you guys in the art program. I’ve never had much artistic talent...”

 

“No such thing,” Clarke said, sitting down with her. “You’re, polysci? I’m sure you weren’t good at that when you were a college freshman. But you studied it, practiced it for years, before you were competent, much less good. Same with art.”

 

Lexa smiled. “You’re right,” she said. “Art is a craft, just like law, english, polysci, any of it.”

 

“What are you working on?” Clarke asked, casting her gaze over Lexa’s papers. 

 

“Oh, just reviewing things for class, rereading cases,” Lexa said with a shrug. 

 

“I like your rocks,” Clarke said. “May I?”

 

“Of course,” Lexa said, gesturing for Clarke to pick up the rock. She held it close, looking at the blue and gray. 

 

“It’s lovely,” Clarke said.

 

“I got it from the beach up in Maine,” Lexa said. “I visited up there a while ago.”

 

“Family, or something?” Clarke asked.

 

“No, I just wanted to go to the beach,” Lexa said. “And I found that.”

 

“Sounds like a lovely time,” Clarke said. “I haven’t had a vacation in so long.”

 

“Me neither, actually,” Lexa said. “It was years ago.”

 

“Should go back, maybe,” Clarke said with a shrug.

 

“Maybe,” Lexa said. Clarke stood. “It was lovely talking to you, I suppose I’ll see you around campus.”

 

“So we shall,” Clarke said with a smile, and heading back to her building. Lexa watched her go before tearing her eyes away and turning back to essays. Her focus seemed to have vanished.


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh god, might as well just get a pitcher to share around,” Lexa said, tossing her bag on the chair in their usual table. Anya flashed her a smile. After a series of frantic texts that afternoon after a series of meetings Anya agreed to meet Lexa at their usual bar that evening. Anya had a series of events she was attending all through the week, so the clock at the top of the bar showed just after nine. 

 

Lexa slammed her head on the table gently, groaning. Anya returned with a pitcher of beer and two glass jars. Luckily Lexa’s apartment was within walking distance, and Anya was potentially walking her home that night.

 

“Tell me everything, my little,” Anya said, pouring Lexa a glass. Lexa nursed her beer. She hadn’t been like this in so long, pulled apart and stretched and aching. And it had literally been a day. Lexa saw Anya’s smile, and she collapsed into the table. Anya knew exactly what was going on, of course, but she would wait her own slow time for Lexa to spill it all out. Anya, if anything, was patenti. She would wait.

 

“Busy day?” she asked when Lexa finally pulled her head from the table and downed the rest of her beer.

 

“Anya I’m falling apart,” Lexa moaned. “Pretty girls are the worst.”

 

Anya chuckled, then laughed hard. “Lexa, you have to pull yourself together, girl,” she said, flipping around. TONDC still had a jukebox and Anya shoved two quarters in, queueing up some throwback eighties tracks for Lexa. Nothing like crappy disco to get over pretty girls.

 

Lexa settled down as Alexander O’Neal came over the jukebox. “Stop playing dumb disco,” Lexa said. “You know I can’t handle myself.”

 

“I think it’s perfect for right now,” Anya said, topping off her beer a third time. Lexa was no lightweight, but it was a tuesday night. But pretty girls necessitated lots of alcohol for talking...” Might as well spill it all out to me and stop moaning.”

 

“This new art professor,” Lexa said, setting her hands on the table and spreading her fingers.

 

“Clarke Griffin?” Anya’s eyebrows went up. “I knew it. You totally have it in for her.”

 

“NO!” Lexa moaned. Anya cracked up, clapping her hands together.

 

“This is perfect, perfect!” Anya said. “She has a new gallery, this is like it was meant to happen. You have to go to her gallery opening on saturday.”

 

Lexa froze. “No, no, no, no, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t.”

 

“Lexa.” Anya leaned forward. “You need this so badly. After what happened to--”

 

“No! It was six years ago, and I still can’t talk about it,” Lexa said, shaking her head. 

 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Anya started.

 

“We’re not going to talk about this,” Lexa said firmly, sipping the beer and shooting a look at Anya. Anya threw her hands up, knowing it wasn’t the time. Perhaps when Lexa was drunker it would come out, but now was not the time, and she wouldn’t push it.

 

“So tell me about Clarke,” Anya said, nudging the conversation back to the original topic. Lexa glared at her, knowing exactly what she was doing and unable to resist at all.

 

“Well,” Lexa said. “Let me just start. Art? It’s like my weakness. I love art so fucking much. And she’s a PRACTICING ARTIST! I just cannot. And just...Anya, she was wearing this WHITE T-SHIRT, it was so tight I like, physically could not handle it. Me, thirty one, practiced lawyer and professor, cannot when I see a pretty girl. I’m just falling apart. I’m supposed to be an adult. I just.”

 

Lexa saw Anya laughing the whole time, and she couldn’t help but laugh as well. “You’re garbage,” Anya said, sipping her drink and nodding to the Simple Minds coming over the jukebox.

 

“I am,” Lexa said, laying her head for perhaps the fifth time on the table. Pretty girls were a weakness of Lexa’s. She had come out at the beginning of her college days, after meeting...well, she refused to think about that now. She knew it wasn’t her fault, but...she couldn’t even bring herself to think about what happened. That night. She was not drunk enough to remember it. Lexa pushed it out of her head. Regardless, she had been out since she was twenty. Most of the other polysci majors knew, and a few of the older students that had her as an advisor or worked with her on a project of some kind. Clarke for sure didn’t know, and Lexa wasn’t planning on telling her any time soon. “She’s probably straight, or something,” Lexa moaned and drank some more.

 

“I do see her with a few other people from time to time,” Anya said. “I mean she is a new professor, hired this year after we lost our drawing professor so we let her teach techniques in charcoal and drawing, you know, it’s like ART437 or something, part of the drawing series you can concentrate in.”

 

“Ah,” Lexa sat up. “You know all about her because you hired her! You’re her boss too!”

 

“Boss is a strong word,” Anya said. Technically Anya was Lexa’s boss, as the dean of liberal arts. But they had been friends long before Lexa started teaching at Arkadia. All through living in DC, they had been good friends after a client had introduced Lexa. Anya had immediately taken to Lexa as a sort of protigeé, and they had been friends since. 

 

“But you know what she teaches. WHEN!” Lexa said excitedly. “So tell me everything.”

 

“Ah, Lexa,” Anya said. “I don’t have every professor in the liberal arts college’s schedule memorized or anything.”

 

“Could you find out?” Lexa asked, excitedly.

 

“Ah, maybe,” Anya said. “Or you could ask her yourself!”

 

“Ew that would mean talking to her,” Lexa said, sitting back and putting on a pouty face of a kind.

 

“Don’t you want to do that?” Anya asked.

 

“No, gosh, no that would be terrifying,” Lexa said with a shiver, sipping her drink again. “I shall just go home and facebook stalk her and maybe send her a friend request if I get drunk enough and perhaps I shall go and see her gallery. Maybe. I might need some convincing.”

 

“Right,” Anya said, rolling her eyes and glancing at the clock. It was getting on to be ten thirty, and there was half a drink left to the beer. Lexa sat, nodding to ABBA’s Winner Takes it All. “Time to go, little one.”

 

“Noooo,” Lexa said.

 

“You’ve got work in the morning,” Anya said, handing her a glass of water. “Drink and we’re going.”

 

“Fine,” Lexa said, downing the water and grabbing her bag, standing up, wobbly. She wasn’t blackout, nor was she a crazy sort of drunk, but Lexa was a mess. She would either pass out or spend her night throwing up, one of the two.

 

Anya walked her back to her apartment down the block. The traffic wasn’t too bad, most people headed out of the center of DC to outlying neighborhoods, home to bed. Anya managed to walk Lexa to the stairs, where Lexa waved goodbye to her older friend, who headed home in a car, because unlike Lexa, Anya had maybe a beer and was put together and not falling apart over a pretty girl.

 

Lexa managed to make it up the elevator to the fourth floor and down the hallway to her apartment, before fumbling with her keys and unlocking the door. She kicked off her shoes and fell to her couch in the living room as the door shut behind her, not even bothering to turn on the light. Knowing she would have a slight hangover tomorrow no matter what she did, Lexa drank another glass of water while turning her computer on. True to her promise to Anya, she fully planned on facebook stalking Clarke before turning in that night. 

 

Squinting in the blue light of the extracted laptop, Lexa leaned over and flicked on the table lamp in the living room. Better. She also had the forethought to plug her laptop in as well, thank goodness.

 

“Facebook...” Lexa said to herself as she typed the website into chrome. The blue page loaded and she immediately went to the search bar, looking for Clarke.

 

She was the second entry in the search bar. Lexa started going through the few photos Clarke had up she could see. No mutual friends...the friend button was so warm and inviting...no. Not yet.

 

Clarke was fucking gorgeous. Her three public profile pictures were amazing...no mysterious male figures that could potentially be boyfriends, though this meant nothing. Clarke was probably straight. Lexa sighed and closed her laptop. She needed to get her life together and stop thinking about this random art professor. Head out of the clouds.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the update is a day late whoops

Telling yourself to focus on things other than pretty young art professors is one thing, but actually doing it is something else. Lexa couldn’t help it. She found herself gazing at Clarke’s facebook profile during her breaks, watching the woods to see if Clarke was out drawing, anxiously sitting in the arts quad to see if she would walk by. But after that first day Clarke seemed to have disappeared. 

Lexa looked at her calendar in her office that Friday morning. No classes today, but she had several meetings with students, the next week to prep, and a pile of emails to send. Events to arrange...

But that Saturday Lexa had circled the date. Clarke’s gallery opening. She sighed. Wanted to go more than anything. She wasn’t sure if she could bring herself too...Lexa set her head down on her desk.

Two meetings with students later and Lexa needed a break. She headed out for a walk on the quad to clear her head, walking around and over to the path along the science and business school buildings. She always appreciated the woods along the edge of Arkadia University. 

“Lexa!” a voice called out from inside the woods and Lexa’s heart dropped into her feet. She took a deep breath. She could do this. She had given presentations in front of a thousand people and questioned witnesses in court. She could talk to a pretty girl.

“Clarke,” Lexa said, turning to see Clarke hurrying to catch up to her. “It’s wonderful to see you again!”

“It’s been awhile,” Clarke said, brushing her hair behind her ear. No portfolio, but Lexa saw a few paint brushes inside Clarke’s bag. “How have you been?”

“Good,” Lexa said. “A little stressed out with midterms approaching.

“Tell me about it,” Clarke said. “We’ve got portfolio reviews for a week and then it’s back to studio.”

“Where are you headed?” Lexa asked. “I’m just on a walk to stretch. I’ve got a lot of meetings today, but I’ll walk you to where you’re going.”

“I’m on an early lunch break today, I’m running studio time all this afternoon,” Clarke said. “Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but I always wonder why the students spend so much time in the studio on Friday evenings. When i was a student I can tell you I was not in art studio on Friday evening.”

Lexa laughed. “I know, tell me about it. The students are so dedicated these days, but they kind of have to be. We put so much fucking pressure on them -- oops, pardon my french...”

“No big deal,” Clarke shrugged it off. “In studio I always tell the students feel free to vent out their anger in their language and their art. Better than venting it with something worse.”

Lexa nodded in seriousness. “Let’s talk about something a little lighter,” she said. 

“Good plan,” Clarke said. They walked side by side for a moment, listening to the wind through the trees.

Lexa’s heart pounded in her chest as she sucked in a breath, opening her mouth. “Anya told me you have a gallery opening this weekend,” she said, attempting to keep it casual.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Clarke said. “I’ve been working on the project for the past summer. I’m really excited. Are you planning on coming?” 

“Yeah!” Lexa said. “I can totally come!”

“Awesome to hear,” Clarke said. “I’ve been looking forward to this forever, so I’m hoping a lot of people from Uni show up, cuz you know, I’m new here and it would be really good for me.”

“Yea, I can totally come, and I’ll tell the polysci department about it,” Lexa said, her confidence growing slowly, heart still pounding. Her hands were only slightly clammy...

“Would you really?” Clarke turned to face Lexa. Lexa swallowed. Clarke’s hand on her arm...”That would mean so much to me.”

“Yeah, of course,” Lexa said, smiling. She let out the smallest of breaths. Clarke was a few inches away, her arm on her shoulder still...

“Thank you so much,” Clarke said. The moment broke, she turned away, her hand back at her side, loose and relaxed. Lexa’s heart slowed from pounding to its gentle skip-every-so-often when she looked at Clarke.

“Anyway,” Clarke said. “My turning.” 

“I’ll see you on Saturday, then,” Lexa said, letting her hand linger on Clarke’s shoulder for a moment in goodbye.

Clarke glanced at the hand and nodded to Lexa. “See you then,” she said, turning away. Lexa watched her leave and let out the sigh she was holding in, her heart settling back to its normal beat, her throat still flushed. 

“Wow,” Lexa said, turning and heading back to the building to resume the afternoon’s work. 

That night Lexa sat in her apartment, a cup of tea at her desk, scented candles burning on the tables scattered around her, filling the small living room with the smell of vanilla and cinnamon. 

Lexa had sent out a text to just about everyone in the polysci department, letting them know about Clarke’s gallery opening the next day. Indra and Lincoln and Anya had all agreed to go with her, Anya promising Lexa drinks beforehand. Still, Lexa’s heart lurched every time she thought about it.

She pulled up Clarke’s facebook profile, and stared down the ‘add friend’ button. She could do this, it wasn’t weird at all or anything. She was going to Clarke’s gallery opening. With a deep breath she pressed the add friend button, and closed facebook instantly. It would be a minute or two before she could bring herself to open the page again. She sat back in her chair, eyes closed, a sigh escaping her. 

Eyes still closed, her phone let out a ding. Lexa opened her eyes, grumbling slightly at whoever was disturbing her moment of angst. 

“Hey!” read the message. Lexa’s heart jumped into her throat at who had sent the message. Clarke had not only accepted Lexa’s friend request, she messaged Lexa back.

Lexa opened facebook again, going to her messages. There it was. Friday, October 24th, 2016, 8:09pm: Clarke Griffin: Hey. 

“Hey yourself,” Lexa typed. “What’s going on?”

“Nervous for my opening,” Clarke said. “The facebook event says at least a hundred people are going.">. 

“You’re going to be great,” Lexa said. “Do you have a speech to give or anything?” 

“Been prepping it since august,” Clarke said. “I’ve always been good at public speaking, but until I start talking I’m a wreck.” 

“I feel the same way,” Lexa said. “But I know you’ll be amazing.” 

There was a minute where Clarke said nothing. Lexa watched her computer screen avidly, waiting for three dots to appear, for her to start talking, for something. 

“Thanks,” was the reply, a minute later. Lexa sat back in her chair. There was nothing to say there. The conversation was over. 

Three dots appeared. Lexa sat up again, waiting for the response. It took a minute when the message appeared. 

“After the gallery opening I’m throwing an afterparty at my house for some friends. Would you be interested in coming too?”

Lexa let out a squeak, nearly falling back in her chair. She hastened to reply. “Of course! Let me know your address and I’ll be there.”

Her fingertips were shaking as she typed, deleting the typos she made. Clarke replied with the address and a “See you then!”

Lexa shivered in excitement. She couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. She sat back in her chair, covering her eyes with the heels of her palms and pressing down, and her heart began to sink.

Get it together, Lexa, she told herself. She had no reason to believe Clarke was interested in being friends, let alone that she was into girls in any capacity, let alone that she of all people, was into Lexa, that she would be willing to...

She was straight. Lexa told herself this. If Clarke wanted to be friends, she could do that. She could bottle up her feelings and shove them deep down and let them slowly dissipate over drinks with friends over the course of months. That was what she had done for the past several years, that was what she always did. And worked out just fine, thank you very much. 

She wasn’t going to let what happened to....Lexa couldn’t even bring herself to say the name, now, six years later. It still haunted her in her sleep, waking up sweating at three o’clock in the morning, remembering that night. Lexa shook her head. Clarke would be a friend. They would go out for drinks every so often and complain about work together.

“Friends,” Lexa said out loud, shaking her head and her feelings out of her. “Friends.” She opened her computer and looked at Clarke’s profile. “Friends.” She closed facebook and opened a grant proposal that needed editing. “Friends.”


	4. Chapter 4

This was it. This was the moment about which Lexa had been agonizing over the past 24 hours. She had Anya, Lincoln and Indra to accompany her as they walked up to the museum together, the white light of the gallery spilling through the glass doors onto the parking lot. The buzz of a slight crowd gathering floated through the air, drowning out the noises of DC surrounding them. It was like a quiet little pocket in the city. Lexa breathed in and let out a sigh, glancing at her watch. Five minutes till seven, just a tad early for the opening. Anya squeezed her shoulder and smiled at Lexa. Lexa nodded, and walked into the gallery.

Six hours ago

“Anya, I have been up since seven this morning, I couldn’t fall asleep last night and I couldn’t get back to sleep this morning, I tried to eat some lunch but I couldn’t, I am literally falling apart, and worst of all, I can’t even decide what outfit to wear!”

Lexa had spoken a little loudly on that last one as Anya’s laugh came over the phone. Anya was cracking up. Lexa held her cellphone away from her ear as she pulled yet another shirt out of her closet to hold up in front of her in the mirror before tossing it on the (already) large pile on the bed. 

“Lexa, have you showered yet?” Anya asked.

“...no,” Lexa said shyly. She knew what was coming. 

“A shower would really calm you down,” Anya said. 

“I know, I know,” Lexa said, pulling out a black blazer and immediately tossing it on the bed without a second glance. She hit speaker on the phone and tossed it on her desk while she reached over to relight one of her candles. It had just gone out. The smell of vanilla was barely holding her together as she made sure all three of her bedroom candles were lit. Perhaps she should pull out the tealights? Those always made her calm...

“Lexa, are you thinking about candles again?” Anya asked.

“Fine, yes, Anya, maybe I am!” Lexa said. “I can’t help it, they calm me down when I’m nervous and things. I just can’t resist the smell of vanilla...” Lexa inhaled as the flame sparked to life.

“More important things, little one,” Anya said. “First of all you have to shower and calm down. An outfit isn’t going to make or break you. You look good no matter what you wear.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Lexa said, sighing a little bit. Now that her candles were lit and Anya was talking some sense into her, Lexa’s frantic heart slowed. 

She turned to the pile of clothes on her bed. She couldn’t decide -- slacks, or a skirt? Or a dress maybe...perhaps that blue one she liked? No, it was too formal...this had all been going through her head for the past hour until she had finally called Anya. At times like these there were nothing like the words of a best-friend-mentor to calm a small queer down.

“Wear that red dress, it brings out your brown hair and your green eyes,” Anya suggested. Lexa extracted the dress in question from the pile. It was a knit number, with gold embroidery along the bottom. She wore it generally when she had presentations. It went well with a nice black shawl she had...or maybe the black scarf?

“You’re right, Anya,” Lexa said, draping the dress over her pillow. “Thanks for listening to me blabber.”

“It’s ok,” Anya said. “I know this is a big deal for you, even if --”

“She’s straight,” Lexa said. “I know.”

“Take a shower,” Anya said, changing the subject. “Take a shower, wash your hair. It’ll calm you down more than you realize.”

“Thanks,” Lexa said. “I may call you again and freak out some more, we’ll see.”

“I’ll see you soon either way,” Anya said. Lexa heard the phone click off, and she grabbed the phone from the desk and seeing the calendar notification for that night. She set it down on the bed and headed into the bathroom for a long, hot shower.

Anya was right. The hot water, fingernails scrubbing her scalp, soap running down her shoulders calmed her down. She felt her muscles relax as she let the water run over her face and down her shoulders, rinsing shampoo from her tangled brown locks. Lexa went through three bottles of conditioner for every one bottle of shampoo. She thought of this as she scooped three handfuls of coconut conditioner through her hair, combing out every tangled knot. 

Wouldn’t it be nice if someone was here to help me with this, Lexa thought to herself as she twisted her shoulders to get at her hair. There was always a spot she could never reach there...

“Ah,” Lexa said as her neck cricked. She let the hot water rub the pain away, standing in the warmth for a moment, rubbing the spot, massaging the knot out with her fingers. 

I have so many knots, Lexa thought to herself, the warm water becoming hot under her skin, sweat dripping down her nose. Her fingers strayed from the crick, sliding down her neck, skin slick with soap. She felt her body growing warmer. Lexa never really thought about that anymore, not since...

But she was stressed and freaked and nervous and she needed it. Just thinking about Clarke...her long blonde hair she was dying to have tangled around her fingertips...her own hair tangled in her fingers, eyes closed, she could picture it...Clarke kissing her neck...her fingers sliding over skin so much like lips...

And like that she was against the wall of the shower as if someone had pushed her, legs thrown open, her hand going straight between her thighs, the frustration of the past few days turning her on even more as she furiously rubbed her clit, only too easy to imagine someone else there as the drips of the water almost felt like kisses on her lips, her other hand massaging her breasts...

She jerked forward and let out a cry catching in her throat as she felt her muscles clenching, tensing, her fingers wet and slick...

She felt the tension break and her mouth fell open, eyes rolling back in her head in pleasure as she felt her climax break in contraction, her muscles tensing and relaxing in pleasure.

Damn, Lexa thought to herself as she leaned forward into the water again, her arousal relaxing into a calm. I need to get laid. 

One hour ago

Lexa walked into the bar, rocking the red knit dress and a pair of ankle boots that gave her an extra inch and a half (not that she needed it, Lexa was already quite tall, but it was something). 

“You look amazing,” Lincoln said, waving at Lexa from her usual booth. This time instead of just her and Anya, all their friends had showed up -- Anya shooting the proudest smile at Lexa, dressed in a lovely blue blazer, Lincoln and Nyko next to each other in tailored suits, Indra waving her over in white. Lexa stopped at the bar, grabbing a drink, before heading over to the table.

“Sorry I’m running late,” Lexa said, sliding into the booth next to Anya. 

“It’s fine,” Lincoln said. His slow, quiet voice calmed Lexa down. She smiled at him.

“Remind me again what kind of artist Clarke considers herself,” Indra asked Anya. They turned to her.

“Oh, suddenly just because I’m the dean of liberal arts I’m the expert on Clarke Griffin!” Anya said sarcastically.

“Well, you know more about her than we do,” Lincoln shrugged.

“You guys are one to talk, I know nothing about this woman except that Lincoln made me come to this event,” Nyko said with a laugh. It was true -- Nyko worked at one of the hospitals in town. Lincoln knew him from his own college days. They had both studied pre-med, though Lincoln had decided to switch majors eventually.

“Thanks for coming, Nyko,” Lexa said with a smile. “It means a lot to me-”

“And also Clarke,” Nyko added. The five of them laughed. Lexa smiled. She was always happiest surrounded by her friends. 

“You guys look great, by the way,” Lexa said, gazing around at them.

“Still, though, you’ve got the red on your side,” Anya said, nudging Lexa with her shoulder. “Clarke’s gonna see you before she sees any of us.”

Lexa shrugged. “I’m hoping she does that anyway,” she said with a smirk. She finished her drink and stood. “Come on, let’s get going,” she said. “Don’t want to hit rush hour traffic.”

“Good call,” Anya said, standing as well and grabbing her bag. They all headed out of the bar together and Nyko and Indra waved. As they lived much further out of the city than Anya, Lincoln and Lexa, they had both driven here, but they would meet the other three at the gallery. In the meantime, Lexa headed to the subway.

The train was crowded, but they managed to get a standing spot a little ways away from the crowd at the back of the car. Lexa’s heart managed to start beating much faster again.

“You’re gonna be great,” Anya said. “I mean, she already invited you to her after party, so you haven’t done anything and you’ve got that going for you.”

“I know, I know,” Lexa said, her teeth chattering. She swallowed. “I’ve got this. 

And so here they were, the gallery open before them, warm and bright in evening light, just beginning to turn to dusk. Lexa walked in.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I technically missed two updates in a row so I'm giving yall two updates today because I love ya. Enjoy angst.

“Lexa!” Clarke immediately noticed as soon as she walked in, and was greeting her in a heartbeat, all arms wrapping around Lexa, pulling her into a hug. Lexa blinked in surprise. “You came! And you brought the whole polysci department with you!”

“Of course I came,” Lexa smiled, and looked Clarke up and down. She was fucking gorgeous...her blonde hair curled, her blue eyes standing out...Clarke somehow made it look like she wasn’t wearing makeup while clearly wearing makeup. Her eyes had a dusting of silver just along the edge of her eyelid. She wore a lovely black dress with a blue scarf about her shoulders. Even with heels, Clarke was still shorter than Lexa.

“You look lovely,” Lexa said. 

“Thank you,” Clarke said, smiling. “Come on, I want to introduce you to my friends before the opening starts.”

Lexa nodded as Clarke grabbed her wrist and whisked her away. Lexa waved a quick goodbye to Anya as she was pulled away. Anya winked and wandered over to a group of other people. If there was one thing Anya could do as the dean, it was professionally schmooze. 

Clarke lead Lexa over to a group of people a little younger than her, all twenty-somethings like Clarke, and a few older people. 

“Lexa,” Clarke said, introducing her to the ten or so people in front of her. “This is my best friend Bellamy Blake.”

Bellamy reached out to take Lexa’s hand, shaking it firmly. Lexa’s heart sank wavered. Was this...was he...? No, Clarke had introduced him as her best friend...

“This is Bellamy’s younger sister, Octavia,” Clarke continued, pointing to a younger girl with long black hair and bright blue eyes, who waved. “And this is Raven Reyes, Monty Green, Jasper Jordan, and John Monty.”

Lexa gazed around at the group of people. They all looked so much cooler than she felt. 

“Everyone, this is Lexa Woods. She’s the head of the polysci department over at Arkadia University,” Clarke said.

“Clearly you’ve got your life together much more than we do,” Octavia joked, somewhat breaking the tension.

“Hah, I wish,” Lexa said, relaxing ever so slightly. “Having a job is one thing, having my life together...still wouldn’t say that’s the case. When you have at least fifteen emails you’ve been avoiding...”

“Tell me about it,” Raven rolled her eyes. Her voice was husky and sarcastic, Lexa immediately liked her. “When your head engineer’s been bugging you to get on those new designs...like yeah right.”

“So what do you all do?” Lexa asked as Clarke drifted away, leaving her alone with Clarke’s friends to make conversation. Lexa was sweating internally. Please help me...

“Raven’s a mechanic, Monty works in computer software, Jasper works as a chemist for a pharm company, Octavia works in social media communications, Bellamy doesn’t have his life together, and I’m in between jobs at the moment,” Monty said. His voice was even more sarcastic than Raven. “And of course, Clarke is our resident starving artist...”

“Clarke’s been looking for a full time job since she graduated,” Bellamy explained. “This is her first gallery opening since graduating. She’s been doing teaching jobs and freelance design since, so it’s kind of a big deal.”

“Have you seen her art yet?” Octavia asked.

“Not yet,” Lexa said. “I’m very excited to, Anya said it was wonderful...”

“Anya!” Bellamy said. “What a savior. Clarke was so happy when Anya gave her the job. She was really hoping for it.”

“That’s good to hear,” Lexa said. “Anya’s one of my good friends, she helped me get the job in the polysci department. I was a practicing lawyer before then, but it wasn’t really my thing...”

“You were a lawyer?!” Raven asked as the group’s collective eyebrows shot up.

Lexa let out a nervous half-giggle. “Um, yes,” she said.

“Best one out there,” Anya said, appearing at Lexa’s shoulder and looping her arm around Lexa. “It was too bad she didn’t like it, she could have been a justice if she wanted. But we got her at Arkadia.” Anya wiggled her fingers like claws, and Clarke’s friends laughed. Lexa smiled.

“Hello, everyone!” A collective hush fell over the group as they turned. A man Lexa didn’t know stood at the front of the room as the lights dimmed, focused warm, yellow lights staying on along the wall, illuminating the artwork on the wall. A small box with a microphone stood at the front of the room, where the man, Lexa assumed the gallery owner, stood.

“I’d like to welcome you all this evening to the Sky Galleria,” he began what Lexa assumed to be a welcoming speech for the opening. “Before I introduce Ms. Griffin tonight, let me say a few words.

“My name is Theo Jaha, the owner of this small gallery, and proud to know Clarke Griffin very well. I have hosted numerous shows for hundreds of artists, large and small, and I know nobody as deserving as this show than our wonderful new resident Ms. Griffin. She has worked more than hard on this project, and I can tell you that I am beyond excited to be hosting her show.”

Theo paused at the smattering of applause. “Alright, I can see I’m overstaying my welcome,” he said, earning a few dry laughs. “The pleasure is mine to introduce Ms. Clarke Griffin!”

The applause this time was much louder as Clarke climbed up to the small platform at the front of the room. In the dim light her hair practically glowed, the blue scarf making her eyes shine out across the room. 

“Thank you, Mr. Jaha, for everything you’ve done for me,” Clarke said. “I couldn’t have asked for a better mentor.” taking the microphone. Her voice naturally carried through the crowd, filling up the whole room. Lexa grinned. Heck, Clarke could have been a lawyer at this rate. 

“I have plenty of people I’d like to thank,” Clarke continued. “Firstly, I’d like to thank my mom, Abby Griffin, for so many things it would take all evening to list them all. I’d like to thank all of my wonderful friends for all of the couches I’ve surfed on until I could finally get this opportunity. I’d also like to thank Anya Goeo for the most wonderful job I could ask for. And lastly, before I move on, I’d like to dedicate this show to Finn Collins. You’ve done more than you could possibly know.”

Lexa’s heart sank to her shoes and the pounding of blood through her veins drowned out the sound of what might have been applause. She didn’t notice the more somber bowed heads and murmurs of the crowd. Instead she blinked over and over again, and swallowed hard at the special name Clarke had dedicated the show to. She knew it.

Anya looked over at Lexa, with a slight frown, before Lexa raised her head and shook it off, sending a friendly nod to Anya’s direction. She nodded, still frowning, and turned back to Clarke. Lexa would have to deal with that later. She shook her head and turned back to Clarke, in the middle of her speech.

“...has always been one of my favorite mediums to work in,” Clarke said. “I hope this reflects in the art itself. Charcoal really lends to the movement and lines this project is based in . Living in DC has really changed the way I look at the outside, and I hope that through my artwork, it will change the way you think, too.”

A loud burst of applause now as Clarke stepped down from the platform as the speech ended and the lights increases ever so slightly. People dispersed to talk amongst themselves, help themselves to the hors d'oeuvres and examine the art. Lexa breathed out ever so slightly and Anya came over to her, a hand at her shoulder.

“You ok?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Lexa said, shaking her head. “I will be.” She breathed in deeply and she felt her throat catch. “Excuse me.”

Anya nodded and Lexa turned to go use the bathroom, making her way down the dark hallway at the back of the front area of the museum. She felt her eyes smart and her throat expand. She tried to swallow and felt her tight throat, opening her mouth to breathe again. 

She made it to the bathroom and closed a stall door, letting the tears fall silently and quickly. Godammit, Lexa thought to herself. Why did I have to go and fall. This was why she hadn’t let herself fall in so long. Because it hurt so damn much. 

The tears eventually slowed and she grabbed a handful of toilet paper and stepped out to the sink, dabbing at her eyes and cleaning up her slightly smeared makeup, turning on the water and letting it cool down her fingers and cheeks. 

Looking slightly more presentable, she admired herself in the mirror for a moment. If her heart had to break, at least she could slay. Lexa smoothed the front of her dress down and breathed a slightly easier sigh, running her fingers through her neat hair, smoothing down the flyaways. She was ready to go back.

As she turned to leave the door opened and Clarke Griffin walked in.


	6. Chapter 6

“Lexa!” Clarke said, stepping over towards the sink.

“Hello, Clarke,” Lexa said, her heart letting out a usual flutter. “How’s it been going? I knew you were nervous.”

“So much better now that the worst is over,” Clarke said, leaning against the sink and turning to talk to Lexa. “The speech is always the hardest, but once I started speaking it all came out easy. I mean, I can talk about my art all day to anyone who wants to listen.”

“It really is something else,” Lexa said. “I mean, this coming from someone with absolutely no artistic talent whatsoever.” She said this with a grin.

Clarke pfft, waving her hand. “Talent is so made up,” she said. “Practice is really where it comes from.”

“Alright, that’s fair,” Lexa said, drumming her fingers on the hand dryer. “Who is Finn?” She asked, quickly changing the subject. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oh,” Clarke said. Lexa’s eyebrows pulled into a frown as she noticed Clarke’s demeanor shift. 

“What is it?” Lexa asked, taking a step closer, her hand hovering just a moment over Clarke’s before Lexa placed her hand over Clarke’s. It was cold.

Clarke turned away from Lexa, her eyes staring at the floor but also at something that happened before. 

She broke contact, pulling her hand away from Lexa’s. “It’s a long story,” Clarke said. “Maybe for another time.” Their eyes met.

“Sorry I asked,” Lexa said, drinking in those blue eyes. She turned and walked out of the bathroom.

“Wait!” Clarke said, and Lexa paused at the door, turning back to look at Clarke. Her blue eyes were rimmed in red. Clarke sighed, wiping a tear away from the corner of her eye. “He was my boyfriend.”

Lexa’s heart kind of did a flip flop sort of move. She pushed all of her emotions away for a moment. Right now she was here for support. She took a step towards Clarke.

Clarke sighed. “He died a few weeks after I started this project,” she said. “He was killed in a car accident.”

Lexa reached out and touched Clarke’s shoulder gently. She opened her mouth, taking a deep breath. Clarke looked up. 

“Six years ago,” Lexa felt her throat close up and she took another breath, fighting against her body. “Six years ago I lost someone to a car accident,” she said. “My girlfriend, Costia.”

Clarke looked at her, marvelling for a moment, before Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke and hugged her tightly. They stood for a moment.

“It fucking sucks,” Lexa said, whispering in Clarke’s ear. She felt the other girl shaking in her arms, heard her sniffle. 

“I know,” Clarke whispered in Lexa’s ear. She pulled away slightly. Lexa looked at Clarke, her arms wrapped around Clarke’s shoulders, Clarke’s arms at her waist. She could see the tears in Clarke’s eyes, close enough to see each individual lash, the slight smear to Clarke’s makeup, the redness in her cheeks.

“Clarke, I...” Lexa stopped, mesmerized by Clarke’s eyes in hers. She felt Clarke’s breath on her lips, leaning in ever so slightly...

“I have to go,” Lexa said, spinning away instantly and practically running out of the bathroom. The door closed behind her and she stood at the wall, gasping for breath. She really was a fucking mess over this girl.

Lexa darted through the masses at the opening, looking for Anya. She really did need an anchor then and there. 

“Hey Lexa!” a deeper voice called her and Lexa turned around. It was one of the guys from Clarke’s group of friends, Bellamy, was it?

“Hi, Bellamy,” Lexa said with a smile. She hoped her face wasn’t smeared with tears.

“Clarke told us you would be joining us for the after party, right?” he asked, bobbing his shoulders a bit as if he were dancing. Lexa smiled a slightly tired smile, taking in his black dress pants, his red collared shirt tucked underneath a black sweater. Men.

“Yea, I am planning on it,” Lexa said. 

“I’ll see you then,” Bellamy. “Looking forward to it.”

“Same,” Lexa said. He disappeared through some people, ending up near Clarke’s friends gathered by the pieces in the front.

“There you are.” Lexa breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Anya,” she said. “Finally.”

“You doing ok?” Anya asked.

“Absolutely not,” Lexa said. “I ran into Clarke in the bathroom. Finn was her boyfriend, but he died in a car crash.”

Anya froze, looking at her. “You mean like...”

“Exactly,” Lexa finished. 

“Come on,” Anya said, leading her outside. They sat on the bench together, looking out into the night. 

“Oh man,” Lexa said, sitting back on the bench. “I forgot how much stress interacting with someone you like is.”

“Oh, tell me about it,” Anya said, fishing something out from her purse. “Here.” Anya handed Lexa a joint. “It’s only half dose, but it should help you calm down.”

“Anya,” Lexa said. “What would I do without you?”

“Live,” Anya said. Lexa pulled out a lighter and took a hit, feeling her nerves relax.

“I forget what it’s nice when my nerve endings aren’t constantly firing in my brain,” Lexa said, letting her head fall back. She took another hit and passed it to Anya.

“You’re the most wired person I’ve ever met, Lexa,” Anya said. “It was a good thing you got out of law when you did. You would have made it big, and you could have handled it. But sometimes you just need to live for yourself first. And you never would have been able to do that.”

“I know what you mean,” Lexa said, taking the last hit from the joint and throwing it on the ground. 

The doors to the museum opened as people began to spill out. Lexa stood, assuming the opening was over. 

“Hey, Lexa!” Raven this time. “You coming?”

“Wish me luck, Anya,” Lexa said, waving goodbye. Anya waved a few fingers, joined now by Lincoln, Nyko and Indra. Lexa noticed Octavia, Bellamy’s younger sister, saying goodbye to Lincoln. She smiled internally as she turned to join in.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the unexplained hiatus! I am currently on the other side of the world in Australia and I have been extraordinarily busy, but I really want to finish this story dammit so here is a double update and a plan to keep updating for the next several weeks. I'm really excited about this and I am so excited to share it with you <3

Lexa had no idea what she was in for when a bunch of late twenty-somethings invited her into a group uber. Bellamy, Octavia, Raven, Monty, Jasper, and then of course, the rest of them cheering her on, Clarke with a massive grin on her face. 

“The studio gallery artist! Resident artist everyone!” Bellamy said with a huge smile, grabbing Clarke and hoisting her onto his shoulders. Clarke laughed and blushed, hiding her face.

“Oh please, Clarke, you deserve all the celebration in the world!” Raven said.

“Let’s get going, I know there’s a rack waiting for us at your place,” Murphy said, a small smile creeping over his face. Lexa’s eyebrow went up. This guy had smiled perhaps a total of two or three times during the whole night.

“Please tell me you bought something more high quality than PBR, Murph,” Clarke said, rolling her eyes.

“One way to find out,” Murphy said with a sarcastic wink.

Lexa managed to cram into the van with the rest of them, found herself sitting with a wall on one side and a Raven Reyes to her right in the back. Monty and Jasper were the last in the back, cramming a few too many people in there that should have been, and Clarke sat in the middle seat in between Bellamy and Octavia. Murphy took the front seat and directed the driver.

The ride was only a few minutes but it felt far too long crammed in the back. Lexa’s one consolation was watching the seven of them laughing and joking and celebrating on Clarke’s behalf. Lexa had never seen a group bonded so tightly.

“Have you guys known each other since college or something?” Lexa asked Raven next to her.

“We grew up together,” Raven said. “All from the same town, our parents all knew each other, all went through school together. We scattered a bit for college but, something keeps drawing us all back together, you know?”

Lexa fell silent. She didn’t. She had always been something of a loner growing up. Seeing this in front of her was...remarkable. 

“Out out out!” Raven said as the car pulled into Clarke’s driveway, the four backseaters piling out and stretching their legs.

“Come on!” Clarke said. 

“Also, do you mind, I invited a few other people...” Bellamy trailed off.

“Who?!” Clarke said, an eyebrow going up. “Who did you invite...”

“Just a little surprise,” Bellamy said as he and Murphy lifted Clarke onto their shoulders and opened the door of the house.

Lexa watched Clarke’s mouth dropped open as people popped out of every hiding place possible in the living room, throwing confetti in the air. 

“Who are all of these people?” Lexa asked Raven, still next to her. Raven was holding back a huge laugh.

“People from high school. There were about a hundred of us in our class, though it looks like not quite everyone is here,” she said, shrugging off her jacket and tossing it in the front room with everyone else.

What did I get myself into, Lexa thought to herself, struggling to suppress a grin of surprise and excitement as dance music began to play through speakers and Clarke was shrugged off Bellamy’s shoulders and congratulations were passed around the room. She was impressed Clarke knew everyone in her high school class.

“Pulled some strings to get em all to show up,” Murphy said, fighting his way out of the crowd and standing next to Lexa. “Drink?”

Lexa saw the guinness he held in his hand and grabbed it. “Please,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve been in the same room as this many people since my high school graduation.”

“Let loose, history teacher!” Murphy said with a joking grin. “Party with the twenty somethings while we still can!”

“First of all I’m not a history teacher--” Lexa began self consciously, and then quickly stopped. “You know what?” She brought the can to her lips and downed the whole thing in a little under a minute, as Murphy’s eyebrows went up and up.

She set the can down with a satisfied empty-sounding clink and grinned as her head spun from the alcohol. She felt her cheeks already beginning to turn red. 

“Damn, history teacher!” Murphy said. Lexa rolled her eyes. She supposed that was what it was going to be.

“I know how to throw down,” Lexa said with a grin. From behind, she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to face Clarke. A low flush immediately crept up under Lexa’s jaw and swallowing, she tried to keep her face straight.

“Murph, if you don’t call her Lexa I’m kicking you out of my house,” Clarke said, then turned and looked at Lexa, looking impressed. “And you -- I didn’t know you could party like these youngsters over here!”

Lexa watched as several of the boys began to set up a game of pong on the table near the kitchen. “I didn’t know we were in college again.”

“Me either,” Clarke said. “Murphy surprised all of us. I was expecting to come home with just eight of us and here we are with half my high school class.” She rolled her eyes and sheepishly grinned. “I hope you don’t mind?”

Lexa shrugged. “The last time I was at a party was probably when I was an undergrad,” she said. “Even though I know my students go out and get wasted, it was never really my thing. But it’s pretty exhilarating to kind of let loose, you know?”

“You feel me,” Clarke said. Bellamy appeared next to Clarke. 

“Come on,” he said, grabbing Clarke’s hand and beckoning Lexa to follow. He led them into the kitchen.

“Oh no,” Lexa said as she saw the wooden tower on the counter in front of her.

“What?” Clarke said as Lexa covered her eyes with her hands, smiling embarrassingly. 

“That’s drinking jenga, isn’t it?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” Clarke said. “We haven’t played it since New Year’s, but it’s all our favorite drinking game.”

“The last time I played that game...” Lexa shook her head and smiled, refusing to say what happened as Clarke began to poke her side, begging her to tell what happened.

“A story for another night,” Lexa said as Jasper handed them both drinks.

“The first tile,” Bellamy said, bowing absurdly and gesturing with lots of unnecessary flourishes, “to the woman of the night, Clarke Griffin, everyone!”

The eight of them gathered around the wooden tower applauded as Clarke doffed an imaginary hat and bowed, stepping forward. Lexa watched as she carefully selected a tile from the bottom of the tower.

“Rule!” Clarke crowed, and the table groaned. 

“What’s it gonna be, sky princess?” Lexa joked.

Clarke grinned evilly. “One hand,” she said, raising an eyebrow, and everyone made over exaggerated disappointed groans, pretending to bang their heads on the table. “We go clockwise!”

Which meant Bellamy was next on her side. Tiles were drawn and drinks were thrown around the table, people drinking and taking shots and exchanging drinks for those who had handed them drinks before. It was clear after several rounds that certain people were more drunk than others. While Raven and Murph kept their sarcast calm the entire time, Octavia’s face quickly faded from pale to pink to red bordering on scarlet, and Bellamy took to the scene with increasingly more ridiculous comical voices, collapsing the entire table on the floor in tears of laughter with his impressions of everyone playing.

The turn came around to Lexa, who, wiggling her (very drunk) fingers, carefully selected a tile from the middle of the tower, causing a wobble at the top. Lexa flipped over the tile amidst the “oooos” of Clarke’s friends as they watched the tower righten itself and stabilize.

“Don Juan,” Lexa read on the tile in scrawled handwriting. She looked around and the excited and shocked smiles at the table. “What does that mean?” Several of the other kids had let out low whistles, and Octavia breathed in a high gasp. She glanced at Clarke sitting next to her, whose face was slowly flushing a bright, bright red.

“You, uh, you kiss the person to your right,” Murphy explained from across the table.

It took a moment in her inebriated state, and then she realized who was sitting on her right. She looked over at Clarke as the tile held loosely in her hand dropped to the table. “Oh!” Lexa said. Clarke’s flush had spread throughout her whole body at this point, and Lexa couldn’t tell if the strained expression on Clarke’s face was a suppressed smile or an expression of disgust.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Lexa whispered to Clarke.

Clarke swallowed. “But I do,” she breathed back. Lexa’s heart skipped a beat as she leaned closer, closing her eyes, but waiting for Clarke to bridge the gap.

A beat, a second, and she felt Clarke’s lips on her own, soft and sweet, a light brush, a warm breath shared, before she was yanked back by a pair of hands.

“Seven minutes of heaven!” two voices said simultaneously. Lexa looked around, disoriented, as both Blake’s grabbed onto Clarke and Lexa, Bellamy hoisting Clarke in a fire man carry to her loud protests, Octavia pushing Lexa’s back. 

“Wait, what? That’s not in the rules...” Lexa said against the Blake siblings loud protests of “drunk rule changes count.”

The door to a room was opened and Lexa and Clarke were pushed in together and the door was shut. “Seven minutes!” Bellamy’s muffled voice called from outside the door. Lexa and Clarke looked at each other, and Clarke collapsed on the bed, burying her face in her hands.


	8. Chapter 8

“Um,” Lexa said. “What now?”

“My friends are the worst,” Clarke said, mortified. Lexa sighed, and for lack of anything better to do, looked around the room. Clarke’s interior decorating skills matched her art -- mostly shades of grayscale and blue, with a few bits of color to draw the eye. Charcoal sketches and drawings were posted on the wall, drafts of previous projects. Scattered art supplies lay around the room, paintbrushes sitting on the dresser, scraps of paper and charcoal bits around. And yet the room wasn’t messy. More like organized chaos.

A stack of books lay on Clarke’s night table. The bed was made, the only neat thing in the room, a light blue spread, straight and flat. A few pictures were tacked to the wall, mostly ones of Clarke and her friends. There was a picture of Clarke with an older woman, who looked to be Clarke’s mom. And another picture of a fairly young man with sandy hair -- her father, perhaps?

“My parents,” Clarke explained, now watching Lexa pace around.

“Your mom?” Lexa asked, gesturing to the older woman.

“Abby,” Clarke said. “She was at the opening tonight. She’s a doctor at one of the hospitals.”

“Who’s this?” Lexa asked, pointing to the man.

“My dad,” Clarke said. “He died when I was young.”

Lexa sat down next to her. She didn’t apologize or forgive Clarke. Of course it wasn’t her fault. She put her hand on Clarke’s shoulder. There was no way she could share that load, but she could at least do this much.

“I’m there with you,” Lexa said. “I never knew my parents.”

Clarke looked at Lexa. “How do you mean?”

Lexa shrugged. “I grew up in foster care, but I was never a...behaved kid, you could say. Bounced around from house to house, buried myself in schoolwork, never really talked to any of the other kids. Getting a scholarship for pre-law was the best thing that happened to me, gave me a way out of it. I don’t know if my parents are alive or dead.”

Clarke’s fingers snaked into Lexa’s, holding her hand for a moment before immediately letting go.

“And that one?” Lexa asked to a picture a little ways apart from the others of Clarke and a boy her age with long black hair, a huge smile on his face. Lexa already knew the answer.

“Finn,” Clarke said.

Lexa looked for a moment more, and then said down. She pulled out her wallet, taking out a very faded, folded up picture and handing it to Clarke. “I figure if I saw yours, you should see mine.”

“Costia?” Clarke asked. Lexa nodded silently. Clarke gazed at the picture of a younger Lexa and a dark skinned woman, her long curly black hair pulled back in a ponytail, sitting on a beach boardwalk together. 

“Our senior year of undergrad, nine years ago. We had started dating about six months before that, and it was a few weeks before graduation. We went to the beach together. I was...twenty two. Back in 2007, right before everyone stopped using film cameras.”

“It’s beautiful,” Clarke said, handing the photo back to Lexa. They sat, a bit of space between them.

Clarke sighed, the sigh that preludes a longer speech. Lexa kicked her shoes off and curled her feet into cross legs. 

“Bellamy knew I had a crush on you,” Clarke began. “Ever since I met you in the quad that week. And he knew it was my first major crush on someone after Finn. It’s been a few years, yeah. I had a few mild ones, but this one wasn’t like any of the other ones.”

“Have you had crushes on women before?” Lexa asked. Clarke nodded.

“Small ones, but yes,” Clarke said. She chuckled to herself. “I had one on Raven for a little while.”

Lexa grinned. “I mean, have you looked at her?” Clarke nodded and let out a proper laugh.

“Anyway,” Clarke said. “Bellamy knew, and I think he told Octavia. Those two are closer than any of the rest of us. I’m not sure he even had to tell her, I think she just knew. Anyway, once Octavia knew, she told Raven, and then it kind of spiralled out. So when Bellamy learned that I had invited you to my opening, I don’t think he nor Murph could resist setting you up with me.” She grinned shyly again.

Lexa ran her hands down her dress, straightening, giving her hands something to do as she spoke. “Well, know the feeling is returned.” Clarke looked up, a look of happy surprise on her face. “And while I appreciate your friends very much, I’d like to do this the proper way.”

“The proper way?” Clarke asked.

“Not when Bellamy and Octavia and the rest of them are listening at the door and we’re all so drunk we can barely walk,” Lexa said with a half grin. Clarke nodded.

“So, Clarke Griffin,” Lexa said, doffing an invisible hat and standing, putting on the air of a Victorian gentleman, bowing slightly. Clarke giggled. “Can I take you out on a date?”

A red flush of happiness crept over Clarke’s cheeks as a wide grin spread across her face. She nodded fervently, before letting out a small, “Yes!”

“How does dinner on Wednesday night sound, Ms. Griffin?” Lexa asked.

Clarke smiled. “Did you memorize my schedule, Dr. Woods?” she asked slyly. Lexa grinned.

“Why on earth would you assume such a thing, Professor Griffin?” Lexa asked, pretending not to look at Clarke. 

“I would love to, Lexa,” Clarke said quietly.

“It’s a date, then,” Lexa said lowly, replacing an imaginary hat back on her head. “Wednesday night, at seven.”

“Wednesday at seven,” Clarke said. “Don’t be late.”

“How could I even think of such a crime?” Lexa asked. “And if we happen to leave the restaurant together, well...”

“Well...” Clarke said, blushing again. 

“Well,” Lexa said, leaning in to kiss Clarke’s cheek. She turned and their lips met, sending a jolt of a shiver through Lexa’s spine and down to the lowest part of her abdomen, creeping between her legs. Clarke’s tongue was warm and soft and gentle and everything that was the best that Lexa could imagine.

Clarke broke the kiss. “I believe we’re bordering on just under seven minutes. We should perhaps...”

“Yes,” Lexa said, sitting next to Clarke, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap, Clarke mirroring Lexa’s position.

“Seven minutes!” they heard Bellamy and Murphy yell together as the door burst open.

Bellamy’s eyebrow went up at the two of them sitting with a significant space between them, mirrored positions, straight bedcovers.

“Don’t tell me you guys sat like that the whole time?” he asked.

“That, Mr. Blake,” Lexa said standing and smoothing out her dress. “Is for me and Miss Griffin to know.”

Lexa noticed Bellamy’s eyebrow shoot up even further as she breezed by him back to the party. She swallowed a grin. Lexa Woods could be quite intimidating if she wanted to be.


	9. Chapter 9

“So what happened?!” Anya asked. It was the next day, a Sunday morning. Lexa had woken up with a throb in her head. Sometimes she forgot that 30-somethings could not drink like they were in college. Damn you body, already beginning to fall apart on me, Lexa had thought as her eyes opened and the room swam.

Three ibuprofens, two bottles of water, a run and a shower later and Lexa was starving. And had the night to discuss. So naturally, she immediately called Anya.

“Clarke and I banged the entire night long, after smoking an entire ounce of weed and drinking three bottles of red wine,” Lexa said, the phone cradled between her chin and her shoulder as though she were in a mid-2000’s female driven romcom, cooking the biggest breakfast she had eaten since...well, she didn’t really eat breakfast these days. A banana if she remembered to grab one on the way out the door. But eggs and cheese and onions and peppers and spinach and toast and potatoes were spread out on the counter, two pans sizzling away.

“Shove off and tell me what really happened,” Anya said. Lexa let out a large laugh. Despite waking up with a massive hangover, she hadn’t been this happy since she could remember.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” Lexa said as she sliced cheese to put over the gently sizzling omelette on the stove. “Clarke’s highschool friends through a giant party. It felt like I was in college again, Anya. But basically all of her friends were in on this secret, so they orchestrated this massive plot wherein we played drunk jenga --”

“No fucking way, it was like you were 20 again!” Anya’s voice crackled over the phone.

“I fucking know,” Lexa said. “Anyway, of course I draw the tile that’s all like ‘kiss the person to your right’, who was of course --”

“Clarke,” they said together.

“Precisely,” Lexa said. “So Bellamy called a seven-minutes-in-heaven --”

“College, more like high school,” Anya commented.

“And they threw us in Clarke’s bedroom (which, by the way, her interior decoration skills are to die for, although she doesn’t like candles as much as me--)”

“Nobody loves candles as much as you do, Lexa,” Anya said, heavily stressing the love.

“Shove off, Anya,” Lexa said as two toasts popped out of the toaster. She slathered butter on as the eggs and potatoes finished off cooking. “Anyway, we sat and we talked and we --”

“Did you kiss?” Anya asked quickly.

“Yes, there was a little bit of kissing,” Lexa said. Anya let out something somewhere between a yelp and a shriek. “And then I asked her out on a proper date and then I left and crashed because it was something like 2 in the morning and I was pretty done. I wanted to do it --”

“Properly, of course you did,” Anya said as Lexa carried her extremely full plate to the table, next to a large cup of coffee and an even larger glass of juice. 

“So, I know have a date with the Clarke Griffin this Wednesday,” Lexa said proudly.

“You are such a lesbian,” Anya said. “Where are you taking her?!”

“I was gonna take her to a nice restaurant and probably invite her back to my place after a bottle of wine between the two of us,” Lexa said. She could practically hear Anya’s excited dance of excitement. 

“Oh, Lexa, you are such a romantic,” Anya said. “I swear if you bring her flowers...”

“Oh, there will be flowers,” Lexa said with a grin as she shoveled a massive spoonful of eggs into her mouth. “Cheese, oh my god, cheese. Anyway, there will be flowers and there will be fancy dresses and there will be...”

“Hours upon hours of glorious sex,” Anya said.

“Well...” Lexa trailed off, and despite the fact that Anya couldn’t see her, shrugged her shoulders, knowing Anya would know.

“Lexa,” Anya said. “I am so happy for you. Nobody deserves this more than you do. I love you.”

Lexa felt a flood of warmth through her chest. “I love you too, Anya,” she said. “I’ll see you on Monday. Let me eat in peace!”

Anya laughed before hanging up, and Lexa proceeded to eat every single possible scrap of food on her plate, every bit of melted cheese and crumb of toast. 

It had been a very long time since Lexa had been this happy. Since Lexa had been anything other than emotionless. Love was...well, love was painful. It was a weakness. It was a distraction and impossible to feel anything after Costia had died, and Lexa had shut it down and filed it away like a misbehaved client. But this was a reminder of that time, of how absolutely amazing it was for her. How happy she had been...

Lexa pulled out the folded, faded picture of Costia smiling, the sun shining bright on her face, her cheeks pulled back in a massive grin. And next to her, another girl, a girl that seemed to be from a different universe, one who didn’t have slight grey hairs already beginning to sneak in under her ponytail and tired eyes that had lost their glow a long time ago. A girl who had been happy.

That day had been locked away in Lexa’s memory for too long. Like an old blanket, wrinkled and folded, Lexa pulled it out, shaking the dust with a flick of the wrist, spreading out the memory, wiping away the wrinkles, reliving it anew.

Just before graduation, final projects all handed in, it was their six month anniversary, and they wanted to go to the beach. Getting on a train they headed out to the coast, the woods spreading out before them, swimsuits worn under clothing that could be picked up by the wind, a backpack full of picnic food, a big blanket to lay on the sand, a kite to fly. The beach had been empty, the students locked up in their rooms studying.

They had spread out beneath the warm sun like it was a different planet, away from everyone else. Jumping in the ocean, the salt spray coating their skin, a bright colored kite floating in the blue sky behind them. The warm sun licked every drop of water off their skin in between kisses and perhaps a little bit more (ok, a lot a bit more, Lexa acknowledged as a tingle ran down her abdomen). 

A woman walking her dog offered to take that picture at the end of the day, the two of them curled up sitting on the boardwalk, salt-spray covered hair curly and wild, red faces and grins the size of the ocean.

The best day of her life. Until the day she had died. And then Lexa had taken those memories and locked them away in files she would never go near, taking the key and tossing it down her mental well. But so long since, rather than the sharp knives they had been, now they were soft blankets to curl up in, memories that it was finally time to revisit. Memories that did not deserve to be forgotten.

Dammit, Clarke, Lexa thought as she wiped the tear that had made it’s way down her cheek. How do you do it? How do you do it.


	10. Chapter 10

“Well, don’t you look happy today,” Lincoln commented as Lexa walked into the Polysci Department’s office Monday morning. “What’s got you looking less like you want to kill someone?”

“Let’s just say Clarke’s art show was more than I was expecting,” Lexa said, setting her bag down in her office and smiling to herself. She did seem to talk with a bit of spring in her step. She was ready to tackle meetings today with a new enthusiasm that she hadn’t felt in a while. Looking at her calendar she saw she had a meeting at 8:00 -- just enough time to get started on the onslaught of emails that had piled up since Friday. She dug into her inbox and managed to get a few inquiries about the upcoming assignment in the intro class.

“Lexa, are you free? Your first meeting’s already here,” Nino poked his head through the open door of Lexa’s office.

“Of course, send them right in,” Lexa said, closing her inbox and sitting back in her chair. 

“Hi, Lexa,” Gustus entered the room, a shy smile on his face.

“Gustus!” Lexa said, gesturing to the open chair in front of her desk. Lexa noticed he had picked himself up a little bit from the last time they had spoken. The jeans weren’t stained this time, and the hoodie had been swapped out for a flannel shirt. “What can I help you with?”

“Well, I have two questions,” Gustus said, slinging his backpack to the floor. “The first one is a little bit easier to answer, so can we tackle that one first?”

“Of course,” Lexa said. “What’s going on?”

Gustus dug out his 4-year plan and talked his way through his scheduling conflicts with his honors seminar and one of the required classes for the polysci major.

“History is my primary major, so I was wondering if would be worth it to do a double major or drop down to a minor, because I can still fulfill the requirements for that.”

“Well, Gustus, I know this is a difficult question but what do you want to do after you graduate? Are you headed to grad school? Law? Politics?”

“I don’t really know,” Gustus said, shrugging his shoulders.

Lexa smiled. “Gustus, you have plenty of time to decide what you want to do,” Lexa said. “I had no idea what I wanted to do the first semester of my freshman year. I originally went into school with hopes of being an engineer. That ended, well, rather poorly. We all change our plans and tweak as the time goes on. And some kids do know what they want to do and it never changes, but some kids don’t, so don’t feel pressured to know exactly what you want to do.”

“Ok,” Gustus said. “So what can I do if I still want the double major?”

Lexa pulled up the ideal four year plan for a polysci major and began to go over it with Gustus. A simple switch of when he was taking classes and a more intense semester next fall and he could get all of it.

“Nineteen credits might seem like not too bad, Gustus, but work piles up fast. Those semesters are doable, but it’s gonna be a bit taxing on you, you won’t have as much time as you want.”

“The engineers do it all the time,” Gustus said. "Funny that you used to want to be one..."

Lexa sighed. “Yes, we all know the engineers are better than us,” she said sarcastically. Gustus managed to get a small grin.

“Your major is just as legit as theirs, Gustus,” she said. “I’d like to see one of them tell me what the Chesapeake-Leopard Affair in 1807 was. They’ve had just as much specialized training as you have, in a different subject. Don’t let their elitism get on your nerve, Gustus. Believe me, I know about it.”

Gustus nodded, taking a deep breath. “What if you like one of them?”

Lexa blinked. That was unexpected. 

“Well,” Lexa said. Despite not meaning to, she imagined the few conversations she had had with Clarke before she had finally asked Clarke out, everything leading up to that point. “Then you should probably start with a conversation. Have you talked to them yet?”

“What if you’re nervous because,” Gustus paused, and Lexa knew immediately what was going on.

“Because he’s not like anyone you’ve ever liked before?” Lexa asked. Gustus sat back in his chair, clutching onto his four year plan like a lifeline.

“I mean, it’s not exactly a secret that you’re...well...uh...” Gustus trailed off.

“That I’m gay?” Lexa asked with a wry smile. The students enjoyed talking about this. This wasn’t a lie, Lexa did not bother to hide the rainbow pride flag in her office window. Safe space stickers littered the polysci department. She had never stated it explicitly, but most students that met her saw the flag and saw the picture of her and Costia on her shelf, or the framed newspaper article entitled “Arkadia University Welcomes LGBT Member to Head of the Polysci Department” and put two and two together. She didn’t exactly hide the pieces. She was a safe place in case anything like this ever happened.

“No,” Gustus said with a small smile.

“Well, I suppose it’s been said,” Lexa laughed. “So you like this guy. Have you liked guys before?”

“Never,” Gustus said. “I kind of...always had my head in my books. Never really liked anybody. Never felt the need to, I had my friends, had school...”

“I understand,” Lexa said. “I was...similar all throughout high school. Kind of kept to myself pretty much my whole life, until I got to college. It’s a different environment. No parents or guardians, no boundaries except those that you set for yourself. I felt myself relax for the first time ever. And that’s when I started realizing I wasn’t into who I thought I was.”

“How do I know if he’s into me?” Gustus asked.

“It’s terrifying, but you might want to start by talking to him,” Lexa said. “Have you?”

“A little bit,” Gustus said. “He’s an engineer. He’s on the chess club, that was how I met him.”

“You have a jumping off point,” Lexa said, sitting back. “Get his facebook. Talk to him. And don’t feel crushed if he’s not into you, or if he’s not into guys. It happens far too frequently, at least in my experience.”

“What’s it like for you?” Gustus asked. “Being department head and also being...gay?”

Lexa thought about the past week, through all of the emotions and up and down she had felt, and looking ahead to Wednesday, just two days away. Her heart throbbed just thinking about it. 

“Honestly, I don’t know how to answer that question,” Lexa said with a half smile. “I don’t know how to not be queer. It’s just who I am.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Gustus asked, pointing to the picture. “I’m sorry if I’m overstepping my boundaries.”

Lexa sighed, taking the picture. This one was a little less private than the one in her wallet, a picture of her and Costia at their graduation, arms embracing in an excited hug.

“She was,” Lexa said, handing the picture to Gustus. “She died.”

“Oh,” Gustus said.

“It was rough. Wow was it rough. But time goes on, you eventually learn to remember the good stuff, and it’s what you retain. The bad stuff never goes away, but it recedes back. It’s not what you remember after a while.”

“She didn’t...” Gustus trailed off.

“She didn’t commit suicide, no,” Lexa said. “She was killed in a car accident by a drunk driver.”

Gustus handed the picture back.

“Trust me, not everyone’s story is as depressing as mine,” Lexa said. “I promise. It gets better.”

“Thanks, Lexa,” Gustus said, grabbing his backpack. “For everything.”

“If you ever need someone to talk to, Gustus,” Lexa said. “My office is always open.”

Gustus nodded as Lexa sat back in her chair, staring out her window. “Lexa?” Nico asked from out front. “The next student is ready.”

Lexa shook her head, clearing her thoughts. “Let them in!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask box is always open on anon at iintothefire.tumblr.com if you ever need to talk. It gets better.


	11. Chapter 11

“Ready for your date?” Anya asked, dropping her bag on the couch as Lexa let her in, dressed in the post-shower-still-haven’t-decided-what-to-wear outfit of sweatpants and an oversized shirt.

“The opposite.” Lexa said. “I don’t know what to do.” Her hair was on its way to dry, curling. Anya took one look at Lexa’s mess and sighed.

“Oh Lex, what are we gonna do with you?” she said, rolling her eyes. “What are you hung up on?”

Lexa walked into her bedroom, Anya following behind and plopping on her bed as she paced around the room.

“What do I wear? What do I say? Do? What is happening?” Lexa said in a stream.

“First of all, you’ve held your own in a court of law and in front of a lecture hall of freshman. So you’ve got this. Second of all, show me what you’re considering,” Anya said.

“Do I go pants or dress?” Lexa asked. “I went dress before, but maybe this time I want to mix it up a little bit? I dunno, I’m pretty comfortable in pants, but is dress the way to go? I usually do dress when it’s a nice occasion.”

 

“Wear what you’re comfortable with,” Anya said.

“I already wore my favorite, I can’t wear the red dress again,” Lexa said, pushing her fingers through her pouf of hair nervously. “Ack!”

Anya stood up, rifling through her closet. “This one?” She asked. “You managed to win that defense case in this one.”

Lexa held up the outfit Anya had pulled out. It was a blue knit dress she hadn’t worn in many years. It’s presence was marred by poor memories -- Lexa had worn this on the night of her and Costia’s anniversary, a few days before she had died.

She smoothed out the knit fabric, soft on her fingers. She could pair it with the silver belt, that would be nice.

“Can you braid my hair, Anya?” Lexa asked. Anya nodded as Lexa curled up, back leaning against the bed as Anya braided her hair.

“I love you so much, Anya,” Lexa said as she felt Anya’s fingers twisting her hair gently.

“I love you too, Lexa,” Anya said.

“You know, the other day, Gustus? A kid in my intro class. He has a crush on an engineer, who is also a boy. He wanted my advice. I was floored.”

“You know, Coming Out Week is coming up,” Anya said. “You could do something for it. People respect you, you’re the head of the polysci department. If you gave a speech it would impact a lot of kids. They could see someone like them successful, someone that made it. It would mean a lot.”

Lexa felt shiver down her spine. It had been so long since she had even allowed herself any love whatsoever. Doing something for coming out week...

“I’ll think about it,” Lexa said as Anya pinned a section of her hair back and started on a different section. Where the bobby pins had come from, Lexa had no idea. They had just kind of appeared.

“How nervous are you, with Clarke?” Anya asked.

“It’s up there,” Lexa said.

“Impressive, seeing as you’ve been a defense lawyer for years and you pretty regularly give seminars to a packed lecture hall. One girl can make you that nervous?”

“I would say it sits solidly somewhere between when I came out to you and when I gave my thesis defense,” Lexa said. 

“Was that the most nervous you’ve ever been?” Anya asked, pausing for a moment. “Coming out to me?”

“I didn’t know my parents, you knew I grew up in the foster system,” Lexa said. “You were the closest thing I had. Like the older sister I never got to have. I was terrified.”

“I’m glad you did,” Anya said. “I’ve never forgotten that day.”

“Me either,” Lexa said. “Like I said, I love you.”

“Look at you,” Anya said, tying back the last of Lexa’s hair and bringing her in front of the mirror. A series of intricate braids twisted Lexa’s hair along back, tucked behind her ear. 

“Now for the finishing touch,” Anya said, holding the blue knit dress. Lexa went into the bathroom, changing. She looked in the mirror. 

“Damn,” she breathed. She stepped out to Anya sitting on the bed.

“My little Lex,” she said with a smile.

“I’m 31,” Lexa said.

“Still shorter than me,” Anya said with a grin. “You look amazing.”

Lexa smiled as Anya tossed her her bag. “Go get ‘em, tiger. Break all your legs.”

“You’ll be waiting with ice cream if it goes poorly?” Lexa asked nervously.

“And a phone call away if it goes well. I want to hear everything,” Anya said with a slightly evil grin. Lexa smiled shyly. 

“Thanks, Anya,” she said, before smoothing out her dress and stepping out the door, confidence growing with every step she took.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long absence -- school and things. The story is nearly done, so thank you guys for sticking with me <3 you can always find me on tumblr at iintothefire.tumblr.com.

Lexa walked through the warm puff of air as she exited the train station two blocks away from the restaurant. Glancing at her watch -- 6:38. Perfection. She walked headed somewhere important -- each planted foot was a step closer to something amazing. She felt like she could conquer the world.

She had texted Clarke the address of the restaurant earlier that day -- Red’s Place had been a favorite of Lexa’s since moving to DC after discovering it poking around food blogs one bored afternoon before she had any friends. She rarely went there, due to the trip, but when she did it was so worth it.

The restaurant had outdoor dining, which was why it was so appealing on the warm early fall night. Lexa sat down on the bench just outside the restaurant after checking the reservation. She pulled out a small book full of colored post-it tabs. She had assigned for her tutorial that week to read -- checking in for class tomorrow

“Well, Ms. Woods,” a voice jerked Lexa from her reverie of looking through her selected passages. She stood up suddenly. “You look fine.”

Clarke stood in front of her, a jacket tossed over her shoulder, dressed in blue and grey and white. Colors that seemed to work perfectly, bringing out the bluest blue in her eyes. Lexa’s cheeks turned up in an involuntary smile.

“Care to join me?” Lexa asked, holding out her arm.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Clarke said, linking arms with her as they walked inside together, their reservation ready as they followed the waiter upstairs to the balcony seating. They sat together at the edge of the balcony, in their own little corner table, above the noise of the city below, a candle at the center of the table.

“This is fancy,” Clarke said.

Lexa smiled. “I don’t get out much, these days,” she said. “I kind of wanted to impress you hardcore.”

“How did you find this place?” Clarke asked.

“I was bored and didn’t have any friends so I read blogs a lot when I first moved here. This was on a foodie blog, and it’s been my favorite place ever since,” Lexa said.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” the waiter asked the two of them.

Lexa was about to open her mouth to order one of the better Zinfandel the restaurant offered, when Clarke said, “Your best Sangiovese.”

“Of course,” the waiter said. Lexa shot an eyebrow up at Clarke and a small grin as Clarke chose a brand from Tuscany.

“Sangiovese?” Lexa said with a smile.

“I’ll admit I looked up the menu beforehand and also wine varieties,” Clarke said. “I suppose we both want to impress each other.”

“I suppose I’ll be getting pasta then,” Lexa said.

“Are you vegetarian?” Clarke asked.

“I am,” Lexa said, grinning. “I don’t mean to be stereotypical, but unfortunately I am in some regards.” She laid her hand across her forehead dramatically and snorted.

“Don’t worry, I am too,” Clarke whispered with a laugh.

“Good, it works out then,” Lexa said. 

Clarke looked out over the city for a little while. “I still can’t get over this view. It makes me want to like, get up in the capitol and make change or something.”

“You have a powerful voice, Clarke,” Lexa said. “You can do anything.”

Clarke smiled. “What made you stop being a lawyer? I’m curious.”

“Ah, getting all my secrets so soon,” Lexa waggled her fingertips. “Who told you? Was it Raven? Bellamy told you.”

“It was Bellamy, yes, yes,” Clarke said. “Between those two nothing you say to my friends is safe from me. So why’d you stop?”

“I thought it was what I wanted to do for a very, very long time,” Lexa said. “I mean, I did the whole thing, studied pre-law as an undergrad, managed to get into Stanford, paid for it by practically selling my organs, got into a partner’s firm, made my way to practicing lawyer. Been there, done that. And I was really good at it.”

“So why’d you stop?” Clarke asked.

“I don’t really know exactly. Something about it just didn’t feel quite right, yeah? Maybe it was the fact that I was constantly surrounded by guys. Maybe it was the fact that I felt like I wasn’t making enough change. Maybe it was the unhealthy environment, the work-a-holic in me took over. Maybe it was the years after Costia died that I was the most depressed I’d been since high school, perhaps in my life. All of that maybe? So I stopped. I had been living in Boston, so I left. Managed to get a teaching degree and found a job here. Thought being around young people would be good for me. Turns out, it was.”

“You did all that in less than ten years?” Clarke said.

“Ten years was a long time,” Lexa said. “And I had almost no friends after Costia died. So I basically worked and worked and did nothing else.”

“Man, Lexa,” Clarke said. “You’re an iceberg.”

“An iceberg?” Lexa asked.

“Much, much more than meets the eye,” Clarke said.

“Well, what about you?” Lexa said. “What led you here?”

Clarke sat back, pausing for a moment to dig up memories as the waiter returned with their bottle of wine, pouring them each a glass and leaving the bottle on the table.

“I grew up in the DC area,” Clarke said. “But our neighborhood was kind of off in its own little lala-sky-land, we didn’t really go to the city much, especially after my dad died. It was kind of suburby in that way. I always liked art, managed to get myself into Maryland Institute College of Art in drawing, made my way through school and then graduated to become a literal starving artist. But, went back, got a teaching degree and found that you can make a little more money teaching art as well as making art, and here I am.”

“So what do you like so much about art?” Lexa asked. “No, no, better question -- what is art to you?”

Clarke rolled her eyes and laughed. “You’re literally talking about my entire career with that question, here,” Clarke said.

“I’m serious, what is it to you?” Lexa asked. 

“I’ve always liked Georgia O’Keeffe’s response, ‘Filling a space in a beautiful way. That's what art means to me’. But for me? I think it’s an act of creation. Of anything.”

“What about conversation, is that art?” Lexa asked.

“Of course,” Clarke said. “Pretty much every moment of our being we’re making art in one way or another.”

“I make art when I teach my students?”

“And when your students teach you,” Clarke said with a smile. “Which is far too often for me. So what’s your definition?”

 

Lexa pursed her lips in thought. “Art is a conversation,” she said. “Between the artist and another artist, between an artist and themself, an artist and an audience. But it involves some kind of response. Therefore, conversation.”

“That is fair, that is fair,” Clarke said. “Did you ever get into art?”

“Art history for a brief stint in college,” Lexa said. “I took a few classes. But never making of art. Doodles on my notes and tattoo designs were the closest I got.”

“Still making art,” Clarke said, sipping the wine. “Wow this is good. Such a step up from boxed wine picked up from Wegman’s at 10:00 on a friday night.”

“Hey, boxed wine is a gift to this world and should never be bad-mouthed,” Lexa said. “I have spent too many nights drinking boxed wine.”

“I know, bottles are such a luxury,” Clarke said, rolling her eyes.

“We should probably take a look at the menu,” Lexa said, remembering where they were before she got too lost in Clarke’s eyes.

“What do you recommend I order?” Clarke asked, not even bothering to open the menu.

“They do an excellent veggo moussaka or pastitsio, their primavera arrabito is exceptional, you can never go wrong with spanikopita, or their ---”

“Too many choices,” Clarke said, taking a quick glance at the menu. “Lentils and feta, and I’ll get us some tzatziki and baba ganoush to share.”

Lexa smiled. “If I get spanikopita we both get bits of each other’s.”

“Deal,” Clarke said. Lexa jumped as she felt toes against her calf, relaxing in the moment. 

“Deal,” Lexa said. 

“Are we ready to order?” The waiter asked. Clarke’s foot jerked away as Lexa’s heel flew into the leg of her chair. 

“Yes,” Lexa said somewhat pained as her heel throbbed. They placed their orders as Clarke let out a laugh.

“You alright there?” Clarke said. “That was like, the worst timing in the world.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Lexa said, curling her toes as the pain resided. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

Clarke instead reached out and gently touched Lexa’s fingers, sending waves of warmth through Lexa’s heart.

Dammit dammit dammit. Clarke was amazing. And this night was wonderful. And Lexa never wanted it to end. And just looking out over the balcony with this amazing woman across the table from her, far above the bustle of the city below was nothing like she could ever imagine. But somewhere deep in her gut, twisted and far away guilt lingered on. Of the fact that she could never ever bring Costia here. She would never get to see this sight.

Lexa wove her fingers through Clarke’s, sighing out the feeling. It was something that was not going to go away for a long time, perhaps ever. 

“So why DC? Was it merely just a job, or was there something more to it?” Clarke asked.

“Well, part of it was me looking for jobs in polysci -- which was where I decided I wanted to go.”

“Not pre-law?” Clarke asked.

“No,” Lexa said. “I had had enough of the law world. As much as I think those kids are going to change the world, I needed a little bit more of a relaxed program, but still with a bit of kick. And with my background, political science was pretty much perfection.”

“So, no politics then?” Clarke asked.

“Not as a politician, no,” Lexa laughed. “Influencing young people to be kind, think of others...as an artist I’m sure you can identify.”

“Art as a method of influencing public feeling?” Clarke said, sitting back. “I’m into it.”

Lexa smiled, Clarke sitting back in her chair, wineglass in hand, the sounds of the city far away. A mental picture to save.

“So why charcoal?” Lexa asked. 

Clarke smiled. “Finn, before he....anyway. He was into math for a while, and one of the things his professors said was that even if the whole world is using smartboards, mathematicians will still be smudging chalk on their pant legs. And you’d think they’d use whiteboards, but the black dust is even worse, toxic to boot.

“I dunno why I told you all this. A lot of people ask if the charcoal dust annoys me when it gets everywhere, but at this point, I can’t even imagine not having the dust on my skin, under my fingernails. It gets my hands dirty, I feel accomplished. There’s nothing like filling up a blank, empty white canvas with this beautiful black dust.”

Lexa drank every word Clarke said. Meandering, sure, but everything was there for a purpose. 

“What are you working on now?” Lexa asked, mesmerized.

“Portraits,” Clarke said. 

“....of?” Lexa asked.

“People,” Clarke shrugged. “I have been working on my DC project that’s in studio right now as my main thing for several years, but in between when I wanted a break from a lot of linework for something a little more smooth, I would do portraits of people. Finn was the first, but after that it was anyone who was willing to sit still for an hour. Octavia and Bellamy both did, my mom did, I’ll do people in the parks sometimes on the weekends, but those are much quicker.”

Lexa’s eyebrow went up as she took a drink, letting the pause linger.

“Are you interested?” Clarke asked, a playful smirk creeping over her face.

“In...modelling?” Lexa asked, feigning surprise. She knew Clarke knew, but she also knew Clarke was into it.

“If you want to,” Clarke said.

“If you’re interested I’d love to,” Lexa said. She suddenly realized they were both leaning forward, her fingertips brushing Clarke’s ever so slightly. She sat back as their food arrived and got to watch Clarke’s magnificent facial journey through the delicious food.

“Wow, ok,” Clarke said. “I’m impressed. This place has amazing food.”

“Oh I’m with you,” Lexa said. Lexa watched as Clarke managed to flag down the waiter. “What’re you up to?”

“Flagging for the check so you can take me back to your place...” Clarke said, feigning surprise.

A flood of heat radiated out through Lexa’s body as her breath caught.

“Ok,” Lexa breathed.


	13. Chapter 13

“Clarke,” Lexa breathed. Her body was pressed against Lexa as she opened the door to her apartment, lips kissing at her neck, hands wrapping around her waist, thighs against hers...

“Lexa?” Clarke asked as the door opened. Lexa caught Clarke, spinning around. Lexa’s eyes met Clarke’s, her bottom lip trembling ever so slightly.

“I got you,” she said, blue eyes strong, her hands holding Lexa up. “I got you.”

“I trust you, Clarke,” Lexa whispered into her ear. 

This time when their lips met it was with the voracity they weren’t allowed in Clarke’s room. The pent up energy broke, hands scrabbling at each other’s clothing as Lexa’s arms went around Clarke’s thighs, bending to pick her up. Clarke’s legs wrapped around Lexa’s waist, her shoes kicked off into the corner as Lexa threw her keys and bag on the table.

Her lips were hungry, her tongue tasted of the sweet wine they had been drinking earlier. Lexa’s head spun as Clarke’s nails scratched her shoulders, her body pressed against Lexa’s, her lips moving to Lexa’s neck, teeth nipping gently.

Lexa tossed Clarke onto her bed, one hand going to unzip Clarke’s dress, another sliding up Clarke’s leg as she slid Clarke’s dress off her, throwing hers unceremoniously on the ground quickly after. 

The feeling of Clarke’s skin on her own was nearly enough to send her over the edge right there, she couldn’t help but kiss every part of Clarke she could she, she wanted to be wrapped in Clarke so that she couldn’t see anything else.

Clarke’s hands went to her cheeks and their lips met once again, Lexa’s hands running up Clarke’s stomach as she felt Clarke slide them under the edge of her underwear, her fingertips tracing across her skin as shiver after shiver ran down her spine.

“Clarke,” Lexa breathed into her ear, her teeth biting into Clarke’s lobe as Clarke moaned, her body enveloping Lexa as she sank into Clarke’s neck, Clarke’s hand sliding through the loose hair untucked into braids.

Lexa sat up to undo Anya’s handicraft from hours before, but Clarke caught her arm. “Leave them,” Clarke whispered. “They’re beautiful.”

Lexa smiled as they kissed and kissed and kissed, their breaths becoming one, the sweet fruit taste mixing with something indescribable yet addicting. Lexa felt Clarke’s hand at her back and with a deft twist her bra came undone, Clarke sliding it over Lexa’s head and onto the floor, her hands running over Lexa’s breasts, thumbs over her nipples as Lexa collapsed, her body going numb with pleasure, moaning into Clarke’s ear as she felt Clarke’s legs wrap around her waist again. Reaching under her, Lexa managed to pull Clarke’s off as well, skin touching skin, soft and warm and everything Lexa had forgotten.

Suddenly Lexa’s back was on the bed as Clarke managed to somehow flip her.

“This is new,” Lexa giggled from the pillow.

“I wanted a turn,” Clarke said with a grin.

“You’re beautiful on top of me,” Lexa said, her hands going to Clarke’s cheeks.

“You’re beautiful beneath me,” Clarke said, and Lexa pulled Clarke down into her, wrapping her body around Clarke, drowning her in kisses as Clarke’ giggled into her lips, kissing her way from her chin down to her neck down to her collarbone, her lips kissing her way into Lexa’s breasts, Lexa’s hands going into her hair, weaving through as she felt Clarke’s teeth around her nipple, her back arching, her fingers tightening into Clarke’s scalp, Clarke’s fingers tightening into her back. 

“Lexa...” Clarke breathed into Lexa’s chest as Lexa pressed into Clarke.

“Yeah?” Lexa asked.

“Can I go down on you?” Clarke asked.

Lexa felt her heart throb, her mind reel. But...there was a hesitation.

“Not yet,” Lexa said. Clarke nodded. Lexa grabbed her hand and slid it down just to the edge where underwear met skin.

“But this is okay,” Lexa breathed as Clarke took over, sliding her fingers down, down, down...

“You’re wet,” Clarke breathed into Lexa’s ear as Lexa’s body involuntarily jumped as Clarke’s fingers skated along her lips, gentle and cool. “Can I be inside you?”

Lexa nodded, breathing “yes” into Clarke’s grin that she felt in her neck, Clarke biting her way down her neck, her fingers sliding into Lexa, Lexa’s body tensing as she felt Clarke’s fingers curl back towards her g-spot.

“Outside, outside,” Lexa said, craving Clarke’s fingers and friction along her clit. Clarke’s slick fingers made their way to the spot, but...

“Ack, dammit Clarke,” Lexa said as Clarke’s fingers refused to hit the perfect spot, gliding around, behind but never exactly quite on.

“Wouldn’t be fun if I just gave it to you?” Clarke said through a grin.

“Fuck yo--oahhhhh,” Lexa managed to get out before Clarke’s finger slid over her clitoris, pressing down.

“A little more pressure, a little to the right,” Lexa breathed into Clarke’s ear as Clarke’s fingers slid into the exact spot and Lexa’s body gave a shudder from scalp to toes.

“Clarke,” Lexa whispered, her breath catching in her mouth as her body clenched and tightened and relaxed suddenly as her muscles contracted and the breath went out of her, her head lolling back on the pillow.

“You ok?” Clarke asked, gently kissing Lexa’s cheek.

“More than,” Lexa said with a smile, her body numb and relaxed. She ran her thumb over Clarke’s nose, Clarke breaking out into a grin.

“I’ve never done this before,” Clarke said.

“Never?” Lexa asked, her eyebrow going up.

Clarke shook her head.

“I got you,” Lexa said, flipping Clarke over, kissing her long and deep, her fingers intertwining with Clarke’s, her other hand twisting in Clarke’s hair.

Lexa slid her hands down Clarke’s chest, cupping her breast, running her finger across Clarke’s stomach, watching goosebumps appear along Clarke’s arms.

“Is this okay?” Lexa asked.

“Yes,” Clarke whispered. “Be inside me...”

Lexa kissed her, their tongues meeting, breath becoming one as she slipped her fingers inside Clarke, two simultaneous gasps becoming one, Clarke’s head throwing back, her eyes seeing everything and nothing, her mouth falling open.

Lexa moved her thumb to Clarke’s clit, gently rubbing as Clarke let out a moan, her hand creeping back between Lexa’s legs.

“Fff...” Lexa let out as she felt Clarke’s finger.

“Lexa, don’t stop,” Clarke said as Lexa began to rock her hand against Clarke, Clarke’s hand rubbing circles over Lexa’s clit, climbing together, Lexa watching Clarke gasp, laying kiss after kiss against her jaw, her neck, her collar...

Their bodies tightening together, becoming one, Lexa curled into Clarke’s neck, Clarke’s eyes flying open as their bodies broke together, crashing into each other, together.  
“Clarke,” Lexa said, gasping, holding Clarke’s body close, burying her face in Clarke’s neck, her ear, her hair, her hands...

The skin along Clarke’s neck was flushed red, her chest heaving from her gasping breath, her blue eyes wide open, a tired smile spreading across her face as Lexa kissed along her jaw.

“Wow...” Clarke managed to get out. She shook her head for a moment to pull herself back. Lexa curled up against her body, tracing her finger along her stomach and chest, up to her chin. “That was kind of amazing.”

“It was,” Lexa said, gently kissing her cheek. Clarke reached up and pulled her back, for a deeper kiss on her lips, their tongues brushing lazily. “Are you finished?”

“I could maybe go again...” Clarke said slowly, a slightly mischevious grin creeping over her face. Lexa smiled, the tiredness suddenly gone as she pinned Clarke’s arms to the bed, straddling Clarke.

“I think I could make that happen,” Lexa said, kissing Clarke deeply, her hands sliding along Clarke’s arms, pushing them up above Clarke’s head as she grabbed Clarke’s wrists with one hand to slide her finger down along Clarke’s jaw and sides, causing Clarke to shiver in pleasure.

A string of kisses down Clarke’s chest and Clarke’s fingers were twining through Lexa’s braids, Lexa gently biting down on Clarke’s nipple, wrapping her fingers around Clarke’s breasts, squeezing gently.

“Can I go down on you?” Lexa asked. For the first time it seemed, she wasn’t nervous, there was no lurch of a memory at her brain. It was just...Clarke.

“Yes, please,” Clarke said as Lexa kissed her way down Clarke’s stomach, her fingers running along Clarke’s thighs, her lips meeting the sensitive nerves on the inside of Clarke’s legs, spreading them open...

Clarke let out a string of half-formed words of pleasure as Lexa’s tongue traced her way along Clarke’s thighs, a gentle kiss along her lips, dragging her tongue along the soft, wet skin...

The husky moan that came out of Clarke set a shiver along Lexa’s abdomen as she felt Clarke’s hands wrapping through her hair, her feet running along Lexa’s bare back, her knees tightening around her head, Clarke’s head thrown back against the pillow of the bed, her eyes tightly closed in overwhelming pleasure.

Lexa felt her own heart quicken as Clarke gave herself over to Lexa. They were the only two people alive in that moment, the only two souls in the world.

Clarke’s legs tightened over Lexa’s head, Lexa’s hands scratching down Clarke’s sides as she let out a rough yell, Lexa’s tongue pressed against her clit, her lower lip just barely sucking in, fingers slipping inside as Clarke’s body tightened and tensed and pulled...

Her head lifted off the bed as her spine snapped up and back, Clarke’s head thrown back, shivers running down her body as Lexa brought her over the edge, curling her fingers against Clarke and feeling her muscles contract.

Clarke collapsed in a rush of sweat and exhaustion as Lexa kissed her way up Clarke’s stomach, curling up against Clarke as Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa. Lexa smiled as she slipped her fingers into her mouth, meeting Clarke’s eyes as she licked everything off her fingers.

“You’re too much,” Clarke said with a smile, touching her nose to Lexa as she pulled Lexa closer.

“Just enough, I think,” Lexa said, snuggling closer.

“Just what I needed,” Clarke said.

“Me, too,” Lexa said. “Me too.”

And somehow, lying curled on Lexa’s bed together, their bodies fitting perfectly, they each knew the other was ready to move on. They had found someone worth it.


	14. Epilogue -- Three Weeks Later

Epilogue -- Three Weeks Later

“And kicking off coming out week I would like to welcome Dr. Lexa Woods to speak on behalf of the faculty at Arkadia University,” the president of Arkadia said to applause as Lexa took the microphone. A small crowd of students was gathered in the central quad of Arkadia at the flagpole. For any other week, it was simply the American flag, but moments ago they had raised the rainbow pride flag over the campus.

Lexa looked out over the crowd. She saw several kids she knew, Gustus holding hands with a cute engineer, a massive smile spread over his face. And to the side, Anya, a huge grin on her face, and next to her, bright blue eyes shining with a small, secret smile at Lexa, Clarke Griffin.

“Thank you for having me to speak this week,” Lexa said as the crowd hushed. “The last time I attended a coming out week event in school, I think maybe five other people showed up. Our community continues to grow and expand and learn and teach. We’ve come so far from the days where we were lucky to escape a hateful glance from our peers, and more often than not we were forgotten, beaten, left to die. But we have a very long way to come in the future. There are still policies to change, human rights to make a reality for so many people. There are so many stories still to hear. 

“But I want to tell you something important. As a practicing lawyer, a distinguished professor and the head of a department --” (this earned a small smattering of applause from a few of the liberal arts students, sarcastic grins and general mirth on their face) -- “I can tell you that it gets better. We cannot compare hardships, but we all face the moment when we want to hold the hand of someone we love and the pressure of society forces us to let go. And it’s hard. But I can tell you, even in that moment you can’t hold their hand, kiss them in public, be treated not as a freak but as a member of society, one day we will be able to. One day, it will get better. It...”

Lexa trailed off as Clarke came up to her. This was not planned, Lexa’s eyebrow immediately went up in question as Clarke stepped forward. “It gets better,” Clarke said into the microphone, and kissed Lexa in front of the crowd.

The smattering of applause broke into cheers as Lexa grinned, kissing Clarke back. They stood together, fingers linking, holding hands in front of them.

“It gets better,” Lexa said again, meeting Clarke’s blue, smiling eyes as the students cheered, the flag flapping above the campus for all to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me! Glad to have finished this one, though I think I'll stick around in this universe with a few more one shots as I love it so much. But I've got some new things to work on, plenty of ideas and coming this summer plenty of time. As always, you can find me on tumblr at iintothefire.tumblr.com. It gets better. Love and support as always.


End file.
